Storms & Thunders (And then, the Sun)
by HaltAndCatchFire
Summary: AU - After a traumatic event, Lexa feels her life is spinning out of control. Meanwhile, Clarke's dealing with her father death by not dealing with it at all. They form an unconventional friendship at their workplace that could lead them to being more than friends, and maybe even give them a little mental peace in the end. But can they really help each other let go of the past?
1. Intro I: Lexa

It was raining again and Lexa hated it. Hated that she used to love it and hated how much it reminded her that her life was now uncontrollable. And when Anya had offered to stay the night with her she had felt so small and pathetic her first reaction was to tell her to fuck off. Good thing her sister knew what she meant and just took it, with a scuff and a bitter laugh. She didn't push it this time because she had been pushing her about everything all the time always since Lexa had moved to the city so, for once, she knew to just let it go. Only because she probably didn't know how bad it got.

If she had ever told Costia to fuck off, Costia would have told her to go fuck herself right back. And then she would've stayed regardless of Lexa's little outburst, though she probably would have slept in the other room. Lexa laughed at the thought.

But Costia was long gone now. And when Costia had been with her storms had never been a problem. All of that came years later.

To be fair, Lexa thought to herself, the problem wasn't the rain itself. It was the wind. The loud noises, the windows shaking. It made her feel like she wasn't alone that night and she hated it. She wanted to feel alone, to be left alone in the comfort of her own apartment. But the noises were now a presence of its own in her room and she couldn't stop shaking. Actually shaking. And sweating, she noticed. Her shirt was starting to feel wet and cold and the touch of the bed sheets against her skins suddenly felt so very wrong. Like they were holding her back trapping her. Like she couldn't move at her own free will. She got out of bed with a jump and almost screamed when her own two feet hit the floor, unexpectedly loud and hard. Pathetic, she thought to herself. She walked fast to the bathroom with her eyes half closed, and even though she told herself she didn't need to turn on the lights at all, she still did. It was a reflex by now. Her nightly routine. Turn on the lights, check behind the shower curtains, make sure the bathroom window is locked. She tried to avoid herself in the mirror but couldn't. She looked terrified. Was she really that scared? She was pale as a ghost and her shirt was clinging to her chest, ridden with a cold sweat that was making her shake even more. This is no living, she thought for a second. And then willed herself to not go down that path again, as she did every night, and just get to bed.

Usually she only took one sleeping pill, but it wasn't doing it. She took another and lay on the bed and waited. Waited for the noises to be drowned out by the magical effects of Ambien. She liked sleeping pills because they actually stopped your brain from working and prevented you from dreaming. They were like taking a hit to the head. One minute you were thinking about how you set the alarm for 6.30 am and it's now 2 am so you'll only get four and a half hours of sleep and how shitty it felt to be getting out of bed every day just to be seen in public living your life so people would remind you that you are, in fact, still living. And then suddenly, it all goes to black and you wake up the next morning as if nights didn't even exist in your life. You almost forget that five hours ago you were crying because of nothing more than a little storm outside that had made you as afraid of dying as you had been that one unspeakable night two years ago.

Some days, Lexa wished she had finished college. She knows that would have been impossible after Costia's death left her bed ridden for months. But now, specially today, after getting almost no sleep the night before and with the rain that just kept coming and coming down on her and the 6.30 am alarm, Lexa wishes she had. She was going to be a lawyer, just like Anya. That's what she had told her mom when she was eleven right after saying good bye to Anya as she drove off to college for the first time. They had grown up in a very, very small town called Bullmar, a couple of hours from New York and for Luna, their mother, seeing her baby going out into the world to try and make it in the city was everything she ever wanted. And when Lexa said she wanted to follow the same path, Luna never let her forget it. Lexa said she was going to go to law school, graduate and go work wherever Anya was working too. And they would get an apartment together in the city and visit their mom every weekend, as Anya had promised her before she left.

But none of that happened.

Lexa and Anya were very different, to say the least. Anya had never been afraid of anything in her entire life. Not that Lexa noticed, anyway. Ever since she was a child, she was never afraid to speak her mind. Never afraid to disagree or push people into getting her way. Lexa always chose silence, instead. Not because she was afraid, but because she was terribly hot-headed and had learned to pick her battles. Silence was her best defense. Being perceived as aloof was maybe the only trait her and Anya shared, but neither of them actually were. Anya was incredibly passionate about her ambitions, no matter what they were. She wanted things so much and with such hunger it made Lexa feel inadequate. Like somehow, she wasn't living life like she was supposed to. Lexa wasn't one to easily show enthusiasm, always afraid of being disappointed in the end. It wasn't that she was a pessimist; she was a realist. She set achievable goals for herself and pursued them quietly, without ever boasting about her achievements, even though she was a straight A student. She didn't see the point in boasting. While Anya was strong, determined and arrogant (in a cocky sort of playful way) Lexa was just as determined as her, but never really liked the attention. She never knew what to do with it. Dealing with people wasn't her thing. Growing up, she played with Anya's friends until they were too old to want to hang out with her, and through-out high school she just minded her own business. There were a couple of people in all her different classes she would greet and maybe make small talk with during recess, but she didn't go out with any of them on the weekends. She liked staying home and watching movies. She liked reading and just being lazy. But mostly, she liked not having to make an effort to socialize. It was easier to tell herself she didn't want friends or a girlfriend than it was to actually try and live a normal life and embarrass herself later. She told herself she didn't want any of that so many times, she ended up believing it and making peace with it.

Until she met Costia.

Costia was a political science major and they shared Intro to Political Science during her first semester in law school. She had wild dark hair, freckles all over her face, deep blue eyes shaped like almonds and she reminded Lexa of a lion. Elegant, but fierce; imposing and always about to attack if pushed. She terrified Lexa so much it made Costia laugh every time she'd go up to talk to her because Lexa would freeze and stutter and avoid eye contact at all cost. Costia always had a fiery laugh at her expense and that scared Lexa even more, but the girl made so many efforts to include her in group debates and study sessions that Lexa eventually decided Costia was just a soft little kitten with a big personality who probably sharpened her claws every day, just in case. One day, when she was grumpier than usual, she asked Costia why she kept talking to her. "Because you're cute", the girl had said, and Lexa had dropped her books at her feet as Costia walked away amused.

During their first months of dating, Lexa told Costia she wasn't one for parties or big groups of people or loud music. Costia yawned dramatically at her excuses. She could see right through her. The first time Costia made her go to a party with her, Lexa got a bit drunk and ended up talking about gender-politics with a bunch of anthropology majors and exchanging phone numbers with some them. They genuinely liked her, it seemed, and it scared Lexa to the bone. They had her number, now what? How was she going keep them entertained? They would eventually realize she's not as interesting or as talkative as vodka makes her out to be. She needed to leave before more people wanted to meet her or talk to her or look at her. She had to leave before anyone else noticed she existed. She was so overtaken by anxiety all of a sudden that she left the party, forgetting all about Costia. Twenty minutes later, Costia showed up at her door, arms crossed, demanding an explanation. Lexa yelled at her for ten minutes straight about how she wasn't going to change who she was for her, saying it was wrong of her to force her to go out in the first place. And Costia let her. She heard everything Lexa said, looking her straight in the eyes and without interrupting. And when Lexa stopped, Costia was still looking at her. Her eyes still demanding an explanation. "Are you done?" she had asked rhetorically.

Costia appeared annoyed, but maybe also a little amused. Lexa laughed, making Costia break character and then they both just laughed at the stupidity of the situation. Lexa moved aside to let Costia into her dorm.

"Why can't you just let yourself be happy, sometimes? You were having a good time. I saw you." Costia said, leaning against the wall.

She had been having a good time, Lexa couldn't deny it.

"I don't know how to do this"

"What?"

Lexa sighs, turning her back to her and mindlessly going to grab a glass from the kitchen counter before filling it with water to avoid eye contact.

"Be…out there. In the world. People…fuck, they just-"

"What?" Costia insists. Lexa can tell she's not going to get away with avoiding the main issue for much longer.

"Expect things! and I'm not here to please them." Lexa knows she's getting defensive, but she can't help it. She hides under an exasperated tone.

"No, you're not."

"So what do I do then?"

"Who the fuck cares about what people expect? I didn't take you out tonight to be my trophy-wife, I took you there so _you_ _would have a good time. I knew you'd hit it off with some of the people there. And you did. So what's the problem?"_

"There is no problem. There isn't. I'm just…me." And with that, Lexa feels so vulnerable her hand shakes a little as she takes a sip of water. She quickly scans Costia's face and notices her anger has melted away a bit.

"People liked you. I like you."

"You do?" Lexa asks, like a scared little kid. This time, she holds Costia's gaze, searching for any sign of dishonesty.

"Not right now." Lexa laughs and Costia joins her. It tugs at her heart that Costia would try to lighten the mood, knowing she doesn't like feeling so exposed. "But most of the time, yeah. I really like you." She pauses, now taking a serious stance. "And other people would like you too if you just let yourself be. No one expects anything from you other than what you have to give. I'm just asking you to make an effort."

Lexa knows. She knows what's being asked of her, but she doesn't want to admit that she does.

"It's not for me, you know? It's for you. You're miserable." The word miserable feels like a punch to the gut. Because it's true.

"I'm not! How can you say that? Are we not…happy?" Lexa inquires. She wanted to sound mad, but she just sounded so unsure that it made her want to go hide in the bathroom.

"Yes, but the world is not just you and me. You need to call your sister more. And you need other people to talk to."

"But I like talking to _you_ _" Costia laughs at that because her girlfriend's deflecting and it's so painfully obvious. Lexa just smiles because she can't help herself. It scares her that Costia knows her so well, but in that moment it feels comforting, knowing she can't lie. Because she doesn't want to, but she's_ _her_ _and Costia won't put up with it._

"Are you five? Come on. You know this life style is not healthy. You _know_ _."_

Lexa nods because she can't talk. She does know and she's embarrassed now.

"Not everyone's going to make this much effort to get close to you. Not everyone's me." Lexa leaves the glass on the counter and slowly approaches her girlfriend, hesitant. Costia's still leaning on the wall, her face unreadable. Lexa gets close enough to start toying with the hem of her shirt with her hands.

"No, because you're special." That does it. Costia smiles and shyly takes Lexa's hands in hers. Lexa almost shudders, concentrating on how right it feels to be touched at that very moment; her eyes fixed on their tangled hands.

"Damn right. So appreciate me, you bitch." Lexa lets out a roaring laugh and grabs her by the waist before pressing her lips to Costia. It was supposed to be passionate, or at least it started that way, but it ends up being a slow and careful and so, so uplifting Lexa wants to cry. But she doesn't. She just keeps her hands on her girlfriend's waist and pressed up against her, needing her as close as possible.

"I do. Appreciate you. And what you're trying to do. You're right, I'm and idiot. I just worry a lot."

"Too much" Costia corrects.

"Too much" She agrees. "But I'm done."

Costia gives her a look.

"I am! I'll…call some of those people I met tonight. And I'm going with you to that stupid frat party next week, if you still want me to." Lexa pretends to be annoyed. She's tired and she doesn't want any more serious talk. Lucky for her, Costia finds it cute.

"And?" She presses.

"...And I'll call my sister. God, you're relentless".

"I'm relentless about you being happy, you stupid idiot" The blue-eyed girl grabs Lexa's face and presses a hard kiss on her plump lips.

"Thanks for not letting me get away with being an idiot. I'm sorry I left you at that party" She presses her forehead against Costia's and bumps their noses.

"It's OK. It's still early. You can make it up to me."

Lexa's confused at first but then Costia's taking off her shirt, dropping it on the floor and making her way to Lexa's room without even checking to see if her girlfriend's following her because of course she is.

"Yes ma'am" Lexa says, before forcing herself not to run after the girl.

After her first year of college, Lexa's goals in life were slightly different than they were when she was eleven. She was going to finish law school, get an internship and immediately start saving money for an apartment so she could move in with Costia. They were going to live together in a crappy apartment for a couple of years until they had enough money for a wedding, maybe a small gathering on a beach somewhere. Luna was going to cry like she always did at family reunions and Costia's mom was probably going to offer her the wedding dress she wore at her own wedding, even though Costia was five sizes too thin for it. Later, they would get a house outside the city and get a dog. And a cat. And like five kids, Costia had said. Lexa only wanted one, maybe two if the first one was well-behaved like her and not a trouble-maker like Costia. They finally settled on three, but that didn't matter, because the details of their soon to be future were constantly changing as time went on and they fell more and more in love. The one thing that never changed was the end resolution for it all: "We're going to be happy, Lexa." - "I know", she'd answered. She did know. She could feel it in her bones.

But none of that happened.

Instead, in her second year of law school, Costia got in a car accident and never made it to one of their study sessions in Lexa's dorm. Lexa was so mad at her for not answering any of her texts and calls that she turned off her phone, because Costia always gave her shit for being unreachable and it wasn't fair that she was acting this way right before Lexa's big exam. So Lexa spent the whole night with her face in the books, pretending she wasn't worried. Pretending she was really studying. But she wasn't. And she didn't sleep, and she didn't remember anything she had read and she failed her exam. And it was all Costia's fault. Because she promised she'd be there even though Lexa knew she hated pulling all-nighters and even more so, she hated missing a party and she had a birthday that night. But she had promised Lexa she'd be there and Lexa counted on her like she only counted on Anya and her mom.

Costia's death didn't hit her straightaway. She cried a bit when she got the phone call, she went to the funeral, she took a couple of weeks off from school and then she was fine. She got up every morning to go to her classes, she ate lunch by herself in the cafeteria, she studied in the library and then she went to her room and slept like a baby. Everything was fine. Everything would be fine if she just stuck to her every day routine, she had thought. But suddenly she found herself not eating lunch anymore. Or dinner. Or breakfast, even though she was never one for breakfast but when you're not eating at all, you might as well put something in your stomach before starting the day so you won't pass out. But she never did. She was tired all the time and being sleepy made her drowsy. Her thoughts were foggy and she couldn't concentrate. She'd sit in all her classes staring through the window, thinking. And when people asked her what she was thinking about, she always said nothing, because it was the truth. She wasn't thinking about how she felt alienated from her own body or how her stomach had been in knots for weeks. She wasn't thinking about Costia's tooth brush which she'd left at her apartment for when she stayed over and how she had had to throw it away one morning. She wasn't thinking about how she didn't really feel like she fit in the world without her girlfriend or about how none of her alleged friends talked to her anymore now that Costia was gone. She wasn't thinking about the life she didn't have anymore or about how she didn't really have a life anymore. She thought about nothing at all during the day, anxiously waiting for night to come so she could sleep and just not think at all.

Three months after Costia's death, Anya got a call. It was 2 PM on a Wednesday and Lexa asked her to come to her dorm. She didn't even say hello, just a gentle "Could you come to my dorm, please?". As if Anya hadn't been trying to reach her since Costia passed away only to have all of her calls and texts and emails ignored. As if Lexa hadn't stood her up for lunch week after week ever since the funeral.

Anya had just started a job at a law firm forty minutes away from Lexa's school at the time, and even though she didn't have the energy or the time or her boss's permission to go, she went. She said it was a family emergency, even though Lexa sounded perfectly fine on the phone. That's how Anya knew something was wrong. Lexa never sounded fine when she was fine. She was always a bit grumpy, or sarcastic or just quiet.

Anya knocked on Lexa's door before realizing it was open. She let herself in and Lexa called her from the bathroom as soon as she heard her. No questions were asked until Anya saw her, sitting naked under the shower, water still running. The water was cold and Lexa was holding something in her hands and trying to show it to Anya, like she couldn't speak. Anya didn't know what to concentrate on first, so she turned off the water, took the towel that was on the bathroom rag and wrapped Lexa in it before finally looking at what Lexa had been trying to show her. She was holding a big chunk of hair. Her own hair. Apparently, from what Anya gathered, she had ripped out, one by one, a big chunk of her hair. And there was a small but noticeable bald spot on the crown of her head. Anya tried not to look shocked, but failed. She wanted to ask things, but she didn't know what exactly. She wanted to ask how it happened and when it started. She wanted to ask Lexa what to do, because she sure as hell didn't know how to proceed. But all she could do was hold her as Lexa said she was sorry a thousand times and Anya promised her again and again that they were going to do something about it. She just didn't know what yet.

Lexa quit school that week and Anya took her back home to Luna. Their mom said she'd take care of it and convinced Anya to go back to her busy life in New York. She would handle it. Anya decided to believe her and, reluctantly, she left, but called Luna at least once a day to ask about Lexa and sent money for groceries that Luna always ended up sending back to her.

Her mom tried. Lexa can't say she didn't. Luna pampered her, took her shopping, tried to get some of her old high school classmates to take her out. She offered therapy but Lexa refused. She offered her money to go on a trip somewhere, but Lexa refused. Luna offered her everything and Lexa refused. She didn't want anything anyone could give her. She wanted to crawl in the hole Costia's death had left in her heart and die in it.

During college, Lexa had started smoking and had quit multiple times through out her two-year relationship with Costia, but eventually she took it up again. One night, walking back to the house from the supermarket, she dropped her cigarette on the street and when she went back to get it a car almost hit her.

She froze in front of the trucks blinding lights and thought: I'm alive.

Time froze, and she thought about how she almost died but she didn't. How she was still alive and Costia wasn't and how that wasn't going to change, ever. And out of nowhere, a bone-chilling thought agitated her: This pain's going to be endless if I let it.

Lexa doesn't really remember what happened after that. She remembers her first instinct was to run to her room and hide under the bed forever. She remembers the guy from the truck yelling at her, and that maybe he got out of the truck and tried to chase her, but he couldn't catch her. She remembered feeling like the ground was shaking under her feet, about to open and swallow her whole. She remembers knowing that if she had stopped running, she would have crumbled under the crushing anguish that spread through her chest, almost too big to be held in her small body. She remembers her heart was racing and about to explode under the weight of it all. And she remembers running and running knowing she didn't have long before her body would give out. And when she finally got home, she ran right past her mom watering the plants in the front yard and upstairs towards her room. Luna ran after her and found Lexa crying under the blankets of her bed. She jumped on the bed next to her daughter and hugged her from the back, Lexa still hiding beneath the bed spread.  
Lexa cried for Costia as if she had just heard about the accident. She cried for her father, whom she didn't remember anymore. She cried for quitting school and not being better at handling her life. For having a heart that wouldn't stay quiet and demanded attention.

She had always pried herself in being more cerebral than most, but it wasn't true. She had never been in control of herself or her emotions, but she had to pretend or otherwise she'd drown in them. And that night, she finally let herself sink to the bottom of the ocean that were the secrets held in her heart for so long. She bawled her eyes out and screamed and kicked 'till she eventually made herself sick and Luna had to drag her to the bathroom, but because she refused to eat there was nothing to me emptied in her stomach. After what seemed like hours, Lexa calmed down and they both fell asleep in her bed. Luna whispered "I love you" to her daughter, still trembling in her arms. And for the first time in months, Lexa smiled as she whispered "I know". Luna let herself feel a little bit of relief that night.

It was the same way for months. Lexa barely slept, was forced-fed by Luna and she cried all day 'till one day, she couldn't find a reason to cry anymore. Eventually, she started helping around the house. Mostly because she felt guilty for having her mom take care of her like a baby for so long, and also because she knew her mom had a lot of expenses now that she was back home and Lexa wasn't even chipping in. Not that Luna would ever complain, but Lexa wanted a part of her independence back. She needed it. She offered to go to the supermarket whenever she could. She fixed a couple of things around the house, given that she was the only one in the family who was actually useful with a tool belt. She even let Luna teach her about the plants and flowers she was growing in her garden, while she had her daily cigarette in the afternoon. She'd put on a coat, sit on the stairs of the house and without even asking, Luna would start talking to her about whichever flower she was paying attention to at the moment. She started teaching Lexa how to care for them, and she spoke with such love for them, ultimately Lexa started helping her out. One afternoon, Lexa found herself in the garden all by herself, doing what Luna usually did. Some times Luna would just watch her from the kitchen window pretending to be busy doing something else and smiled at her. Other times, she did it when she was all by herself in the house. It calmed her to care of another living being. To feel like she was capable of that now. She knew they were just plants, but it felt like a step forward.

And six months later, on a lazy autumn afternoon, as she took the first drag of her daily cigarette and unrolled the garden hose, she felt it. Peace. She had this covered, she thought. She was starting to feel alive again and it wasn't as scary anymore. It was almost exciting. Almost. Maybe she could get a part-time job to start saving some money. She had already been offered a job in the town's supermarket as a cashier by Ms. Solum, who used to be her math's teacher in pre-school. No one in town really knew why she was back and, strangely, they had all been polite enough not to ask her. But she had a feeling Luna had had something to do with it. At least no one pitied her, if they knew. And after being back so long, no one stared at her anymore as if she didn't belong there. Everyone was nice enough to greet her when they saw her walking down the street but also nice enough not to approach her to ask her anything. Which was out of place for such a small town, but she didn't question it.

Yeah, she could start chipping in on the rent and groceries while putting the rest of her money in the bank. Maybe she could check out some other career options, or she could go back to law school in time. A different school. She could move out again and start over. It felt possible, now that remembering Costia didn't hurt so much. Costia would want her to get back on her feet. Hell, she wouldn't have let her quit school the first time around, but she would be proud that she was even considering taking back control of her life. She let herself be comforted by the endless possibilities the future held for her. She was almost in control again. Everything was going to be fine, soon enough.

But, once again, none of that happened.

"You didn't sleep." Anya states the minute she walks into their office.

Lexa has been working as her assistant for a couple of months now at Anya's insistence. Lexa wanted a job, any job, but Anya wanted to keep an eye on her and really, she could do worst. It was a stable job with a decent salary. And it was either agreeing to work for Anya or agreeing to move in with her, because the girl wouldn't let her be on her own in the city after everything that happened.

"I did. What time's your meeting?"

"You know lying is just gonna make me ask more questions."

"I'm not lying, I slept. It's fine" Anya's already opening her mouth to ask another question when Lexa's temper gets the better of her. "It's too early for this bullshit, Anya. Please". It comes out harsher than she intended and as soon as the words are out of her mouth she regrets them. Anya worries; she knows. But she's so insistent and it's so, so early. However, Anya doesn't seem affected by her sudden outburst.

"Then why do you look like shit?"

Lexa goes to drop her pursue on her desk and starts going through the files accumulated on it to keep herself busy.

"Thanks for the compliment. Love hearing that first thing in the morning".

Anya leans on her desk next to her, getting up in her personal space, letting her sister know she's not backing down. She never does, Lexa thinks.

"I forgot to take my sleeping pill until late so I'm still a bit tired, that's all."

"You're still taking those?" Anya asks after an awkward pause, unable to hold back her concern.

 _You still need them to function like a normal person?_ _Is what Lexa hears._

"Really?" The _are you really going to judge me_ _goes implied._

"I'm not judging, geez. I just…didn't know". Anya holds her hands up, trying not to get Lexa riled up again. Lexa huffs and goes to sit at her desk chair, turning the computer on. She's done talking for the morning, and maybe for the rest of the day.

"Do they help?"

Lexa wants to fire back _Why do you think I take them_ _but one look at Anya, sitting on her desk, shoulders slumped, hands on her lap and tender eyes and Lexa knows she's not being pushy. She's being open and honest and walking around egg shells because she knows Lexa can't go through a single conversation with a human being without either getting worked up or staying completely silent since it all happened and god, it most be frustrating to deal with her on a daily basis._

"They do. I'm hoping to get off them in a couple of months, maybe." Anya nods, her mouth hinting at a thankful smile. She wasn't expecting her sister to answer her at all. And they both know Anya wants to asks more questions, but Anya can feel she's reached the limit on that topic.

"Good. You should drink some coffee before you start sorting through those files though." Before Lexa can argue, Anya cuts her off. "I know you slept fine. I know. I'm happy for you. Congratulations, really. But if you took your sleeping pills late last night then you're going to be tired all morning and I want you to help me draw up some contracts after the meeting, so I need you sharp as a knife."

Anya hands her some money and Lexa just takes it because she knows there's no point in arguing. And even though she hates coffee, she really could use a pick-me-up. She gets up to leave the office when Anya grabs her wrist.

"Dante's retirement party is tonight". Lexa looks at her, expecting further explanation. "Everyone at the firm's gonna be there, I can drop you off at your place afterwards if you want".

Oh, this again, Lexa thought.

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

Lexa gets her coat from the desk chair while looking at Anya with disbelief. "You know I can't go to parties, Anya. It's too-"

"I'll be by your side the whole time. Just for a few hours so you can meet some of the younger people working here on the other floors…"

"No". It sounds finale, and Lexa's sorry for shutting down her sister's idea so abruptly. "It'll be too tempting and I have one of my meetings tonight, you know that. I'm not just gonna go partying afterwards. I can't."

"Lex"

"I don't want to!" Her own anger makes her jump. It was unexpected for the both of them. Before Anya apologizes, Lexa interferes. "I'm not ready, OK? I'm doing fine by myself. I just want to go to my stupid meeting and then go to back to my stupid apartment to watch some stupid TV and then take my stupid pills so I can sleep."

"It's not healthy"

"It's my routine. I need it". Lexa starts buttoning up her coat, eyes fixed on the floor. "I really need it, Anya. For now"

"OK. I'll keep trying to make you go to all the office parties though. You know that, right?"

"I know, I've asked you to stop and you haven't so, yeah." Anya laughs. "I know" Lexa finishes. She's smiles at her, grateful, and Anya lets it go, giving Lexa's hand an encouraging squeeze before she leaves for the office cafeteria.

Lexa goes up to the counter and thoughtlessly nods to the barista. It's a young blonde girl named Clarke. She knows this because every time she goes to buy coffee she avoids talking to her by focusing her eyes on the little name tag on her shirt. At first, she'd robotically ask for an espresso, Anya's morning order, and just put the money on the counter before taking the coffee and leaving without even a _thank you_ _._ But now, after months of ordering the same thing every day, she just walks up to the girl, acknowledges her with a small nod and Clarke just hands her an espresso in silence. Sometimes she feels the cute girl's eyes on her, maybe waiting for a _hello_ or _a good morning_ or a _thanks for not making me tell you my order every morning because I don't know how to socialize and I feel like you get it_ . But Lexa pretends she doesn't notice the girl staring at her because she doesn't know how to socialize and maybe the cute girl doesn't get it.

Lexa's brought out of her thoughts by the sound of a coffee cup being placed in front of her. It's an espresso. Lexa hates espressos. She's about to pay and just take the coffee with her and throw it in the trash on her way out, but she has been yawning all morning and really does need some caffeine in her.

"Sorry, did I order this?" Lexa asks. She thinks it sounded rude, but Clarke seems taken back just by hearing her voice more than anything else.

"Oh, no, but…It's what you usually get, right? I'm sorry-" The blonde takes the espresso and curses under her breath. Lexa feels sorry for her, it's not her fault she didn't speak up sooner.

"No it's fine…"

"I didn't ask, I'm sorry." Clarke's getting more and more nervous every time the curly haired girl speaks up. Her voice is so soft, though. If it weren't because she never talks, Clarke wouldn't be nervous at all. And she might even notice the sympathy in her clear green eyes.

"It's fine. I'll take it." Lexa smiles kindly, as she starts digging the money out of her pocket and dismissing Clarke's apprehension.

"No, no. I should've asked. I'll just throw this one out."

Clarke takes the cup and throws it in the garbage can behind her.

"Won't you get in trouble for it?" Lexa asks. Why is she still talking to this girl? She just wants to leave and hide in her office behind her big computer screen. She wants to let the subject die, but Clarke's still on edge and it makes her uncomfortable because it's her fault.

"I'll pay for it, no big deal. It was my mistake. Sorry." Clarke smiles at her, letting her know it's all good.

"Don't worry. I'll just have a cappuccino, then. Please."

"Sure thing." The blonde's smiling broadly at her and Lexa's almost proud of herself because she made someone smile and she can't remember when was the last time that happened. She smiles back timidly.

A compelling silence falls upon them. Clarke's back is turned, pressing the buttons on the coffee machine behind the counter and waiting for a new cup to fill, when Lexa speaks up again, unexpectedly.

"That's Anya's order." Clarke looks at her over her shoulder, surprised. "My sister's order. She's my boss and I come here every morning to get her coffee, that's why-"

"Right, right." Clarke cuts her off because Lexa's sort of rambling and it's cute, but she knows it's hard for the exceptionally shy girl. "And this one's for you?"

"Yeah. I don't usually drink coffee."

"How do you function during the day?" She feigns shock.

"I annoy Anya as much as I can. That helps."

Clarke laughs with easiness. Lexa made a joke and a pretty girl laughed. She didn't even realize she was being funny and Clarke's smile reaches her eyes and it's captivating, but it's also making her want to leave because she hasn't spoken this much to anyone other than Anya in a long time and she'll end up embarrassing herself in front of the girl soon enough, she figures.

"Here you go."

"Thanks."

Lexa takes the cappuccino and hands Clarke double the money.

"It's only $3.70." Says the blonde, perplexed.

"I'll pay for both drinks, you shouldn't have to pay for a silly mistake. I do order the same thing every day."

"I can't-"

"It's Anya's money. Please. Take it. It'll annoy her." Lexa dismisses whatever argument Clarke was going to voice with a wave of a hand.

Clarke considers it for a second, uncertain. "Guess we gotta keep you functioning for the rest of the day, huh?"

Clarke's voice is deep and throaty, Lexa notices. And she's got a cocky smile. Lexa laughs. "This will definitely help."

Lexa takes the coffee and nods, before concentrating on walking out of there as fast as she can without actually running like she wants to do.

"Hey Lexa, I'll slip you a cherry pie next time." Clarke calls out after her. Lexa stops in her tracks.

"How do you know my name?"

"I asked you the first time you came here." And then, "Do you like cherry pies? No one ever orders them and they cost the same as an espresso." Lexa's looking at her like she's speaking in a foreign language. Clarke can't help but smile at how caught up the girl seems to get in her own thoughts. "For the extra money you gave me. I owe you a cherry pie or something. Do you like them?"

"Yeah, yeah. I like them." She answers slowly, still unsure.

"I'll slip you one next time when my boss's not looking."

"OK then. If you remember, I guess…" Clarke can tell Lexa doesn't wanna put her out.

"I'll remember." Hoping the girl gets that it's no problem and that she'll remember her and this conversation, because Lexa doesn't ever speak to anyone and it's been a long time since Clarke's met anyone new, if this can even be considered as "meeting" someone.

Lexa blushes, nods and leaves. And Clarke goes back to her daily routine.

Lexa fought her way through the crowded streets as the rain kept coming and coming upon her. There were no cabs around and she was seriously considering just not going. She could walk to her apartment instead and take a hot shower, change her clothes and maybe even eat something, if she felt like it. She could go another night not having to talk to anyone, if she wished. She didn't _have_ _to go. She didn't. No one was forcing her, so why not just go home? It's just one meeting. She wouldn't die without it. Anya would kick her ass if she ever found out, but she didn't have to find out._

And before she could turn right instead of left on the next street and go home, a car pulls up next to her. Lexa doesn't notice until the driver rolls the window down. It's the blonde girl from the cafeteria.

"Hi." Lexa says monotonously. She's not in the mood to talk and she's already leaving when Clarke calls out to her.

"What are you doing? Get in." Clarke's yelling because New York's loud and the rain's hitting the ground so hard it's even more difficult to hold a conversation than usual.

"Oh no, it's OK." Lexa tries to leave again, not paying attention to the girl.

"You're soaking from head to toes. Get in." Clarke's not insisting, she's just…smiling. Softly.

"No-"

"Do you have a death wish or something? You'll get bronchitis." Clarke can't help but laugh at Lexa's stubbornness. She looks like a trapped animal. Scared to talk to Clarke and scared to go.

"I-" Lexa's going to decline the offer, Clarke can tell. But then she smiles too "I don't even know what that is. Bronchitis?" Lexa asks, now fully facing the blonde. She's not thinking of leaving anymore.

"Its bad. You don't want it. Trust me, I used to be a nurse." Clarke laughs again, trying to ease the girl into the idea. "Get in." She pushes, slightly. Lexa's about to turn around, and she kind of does, but then she turns back around and runs to the passenger's door before getting in. Clarke lets out an actual laugh, but Lexa doesn't notice before getting in. She's dripping water all over the carpet and the leather seats, but Clarke doesn't mind.

"Hi" Clarke greets her, amused.

"I'm messing up your car seat." The brunette puts on her seat belt and squirms in the seat, as if that'll help keep her wet coat from ruining the seats.

"Don't worry about it."

Clarke's starts driving again, looking straight ahead. Lexa's scanning her face, trying to read if she really doesn't mind.

"I'm sorry." Starts Lexa. They aren't talking and she felt awkward about it all.

"For what?"

She's apologizing for existing in Clarke's life and making her feel like she had to stop her car to drive her. But she can't say that, so she just shrugs. Clarke chuckles. "You apologize a lot."

That comment sparks Lexa's interested. How would she know? – Clarke can tell that sounded a bit creepy considering they never really talk or see each other at work.

"I've noticed." She admits bravely. Lexa seems to let it go with ease.

"Sorry."

Clarke chuckles again and notices Lexa wasn't making a joke, she was truly apologizing. Again. And that makes her laugh even more. Lexa realizes what she just did and lets out a laugh under her breath, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I'm just going a few blocks from here. I didn't mind walking." Clarke looks at her. "I mean, thanks, but-"

"I'm going just a few blocks from here too, I don't mind. I couldn't leave you to die out there."

"That's a bit dramatic."

"Well, I AM and _artiste_ _." The blonde jokes._

"Really?"

"I'm trying to be." She shrugs. She doesn't know why she brought it up at all.

"That's…really cool. I'm-I mean I'm an assistant right now, but I wanted to be a lawyer." Lexa felt like she had to share something too and it reminded her of her meetings, for some reason. Only this felt safer and almost entertaining. _Almost_ _._

"And you don't want to be one anymore?"

"I do." The _it's complicated_ _goes unsaid and Clarke catches it. Lexa shrugs it off like it's not important. "Maybe someday." Lexa looks out the window disheartened by her admission. Clarke feels drawn to do something about it immediately._

"I'm not really and artist. I want to be. I'm trying to get an exhibition going, but…it's not going great." She admits a bit disheartened too. Lexa looks calmer now, and Clarke smiles, as if saying _we're both OK_ _._

"You'll get it." Lexa doesn't meet her eyes, focusing on the buttons of her coat instead. Clarke's touched that this stranger has more faith in her than her own mother.

"Thanks."

Between the rain and the cars and the people, Lexa hadn't notice and old Kenny Rogers song was playing on the radio. And she looks at Clarke, all blonde and bubbly and wearing a leather jacket (she hadn't noticed that before either) and she laughs.

"What?" Clarke takes her eyes of the road, almost laughing herself, but baffled.

"I didn't pick you for a country girl." Lexa teases. Clarke thinks it's the first time she's seen that look on her face. She's making fun of her and it makes Clarke want to do all sort of ridiculous things just to keep it going. But she ignores that thought.

"Oh" She laughs. "This is my dad's car. He loved country. He only programmed country radio stations in this old thing, apparently." Clarke presses the buttons for different stations and they all play similar tunes. It makes Lexa laugh again.

"You two share a car?"

"No, he left it to me." Clarke says like it's not big deal. But they can both feel it's a big deal.

An easy silence falls between them though. Clarke's not looking for consolation and Lexa doesn't feel pressured to offer her any. Instead, she goes for a polite answer. "That's nice."

"I mean, it's practical. And helps, you know, helps me not…forget about him? I don't know." Clarke's hands hold the steering wheel tightly, never taking her eye of the road. "It still smells like him." The girl doesn't seem sad, Lexa noticed. But her blue eyes look haunted. And she knows that feeling even better than sadness.

"You won't forget him. With or without the car, he'll always be your dad." She states it so strongly, and wants to take it back so bad as soon as she says it. Who does she think she is weighing on a strangers mourning. Just because she lost Costia it doesn't mean she knows anything about anyone else's sorrow. But Clarke had that look that reminded her so much of herself a few years ago. She remembers feeling like no one would ever understand the burden Costia's love left in her after it was taken away from her.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why- It's none of my business, I'm sorry." Lexa considers opening the door of the car while it's still moving and jumping. This is why she doesn't talk to people. Because she doesn't know what to say and when she does say something it's never right or enough or appropriate.

"No, that was nice. It- it made me feel a bit better." Clarke's voice gets deeper. Her throat tightened at Lexa's previous words. And Lexa can tell she's fighting off her emotions.

"Well, I'm glad my lack of social skills is helping someone at least." She jokes. She remembers Costia doing that for her when her emotions got the better of her, too. And when Clarke laughs, she's grateful she could help. Maybe saying something wasn't so bad.

Suddenly, Lexa notices with all the traffic that she hadn't been paying attention and the intergroup building is just two blocks away. If she can get out now, she can avoid telling Clarke where she's going completely.

"You can just drop me off here."

"Oh, where are you going?"

"It's fine. Just drop me in this corner." Lexa's already taking off her seatbelt and Clarke's utterly confused. They were having a moment a minute ago and now Lexa can't wait to get out of the car. She wants to ask because that's what she does, but she remembers the girl's shy by nature and really, who is she to demand any answers from the striking brunette. Still, the streets are crowded and it's still raining.

"Don't be silly-"

"I'm not. Here's fine." Clarke's taken back by Lexa's angry tone, but she can also tell the girl didn't mean it. If she's so anxious about getting out of the car, there must be a good reason. Clarke wants to know, but she decides to let it go.

"OK…"

"I'm sorry, I'm just very late and I- I have to get going." She's back to politely apologizing.

"It's OK"

"I'm sorry."

Clarke stops the car at the next corner.

"You apologize too much." She jokes. She wants Lexa to know that everything's fine. Lexa smiles back, still a bit regretful.

"Thanks again. You didn't have to."

Lexa opens the door and steps out of Clarke's car.

"I did. I wasn't going to let you drown out there." Lexa gives her a look. "Dramatic, I know." They share a laugh. It's all back to normal, it seems.

"See ya"

Lexa pulls her coat tighter around her, turns around and is about to run when Clarke's voice stops her.

"I'll have that cherry pie for you tomorrow." Lexa nods and smiles coyly. Maybe even laughs a bit, Clarke can't tell because as soon as she's out of the car she's running, only god knows where.

As she gets out of the parking lot at Raven's apartment building, she heads to the diner across the street to meet her friend. She has been texting her regularly, but avoiding actually hanging out with her and the rest of the gang for a month. Bellamy texts her once a day to check in on her, Lincoln calls her every Friday after work to ask how she's doing and offers to buy her a drink (she politely declines every time), and Octavia has decided, resentfully, she won't worry about her if she doesn't want to be worried about. At least that's what she tells herself, but the doorman at her building has said the small ferocious looking girl had been around at least three times the past month, accidentally missing Clarke every time and asking him not to tell her. But he feels it is his duty to inform her of such things. Also, he just really loves gossip.

It worries her that Octavia worries about her. And that she's mad at her for keeping to herself ever since the funeral. It worries her that she should care more about it, and it worries her that she doesn't really seem to mind. She feels numb and it's soothing. Like floating in cold water. You get used to it after a while and then you forget you were ever cold and let the water take you.

Raven's the one who doesn't put up with it at all. Clarke could never put any boundaries between them. She doesn't care if Clarke doesn't want to see her. Doesn't care if Clarke never answers her calls and texts. She doesn't care, because she knows Clarke is going through something and if Clarke doesn't pick up her phone she just shows up at her apartment or at work with no warning. Two days ago she said they were going to have diner on Tuesday and before Clarke could decline, Raven announced she wasn't asking her. It wasn't up for discussion. "If you don't show up, I'm calling Abby and telling her you've been hiding in your apartment all this time." Clarke shuddered at the thought of her mother finding out just how bad things were going for her. She wasn't a nurse anymore and she wasn't an artist yet. She was grieving and alone and working a dead-end job and Abby would have her locked up in a mental facility if she ever found out she cried herself to sleep most nights. That's just how menacing her mother's overprotectiveness got when it came to her (and sometimes Raven).

She didn't feel like going in right away, checking through the windows if Raven was already inside. She wasn't, and as she stood under the roof at the entrance waiting for Raven she started picturing a million ways she could still get out of this dinner if she only had the guts to ever go against Raven. Looking around to keep herself from getting bored, she noticed the night was unusually quiet. There weren't a lot of people walking around due to the rain, but sitting at the stairs of an intergroup building across the street there was a girl, shivering as she took the last couple of drags out of her cigarette. She looked familiar. Curly hair, small frame, black coat.

Lexa walked into the building after throwing the cigarette away, passing next to the sign outside that said "Alcoholics Anonymous meetings: Tuesdays 8 PM".

Clarke stood there and watched as Lexa went in with a couple other people that greeted her at the door. She didn't know what to do with this new information. Was that why the girl didn't want her to know where she was going? Was she embarrassed? Or was she just very private?

She'd never met an alcoholic girl that young. She didn't seem like the type to go all out for parties. She barely even spoke. Clarke had noticed how she walked around with her eyes on the ground, trying to go unnoticed wherever she went at work. She couldn't picture Lexa getting drunk in a bar, or out with a group of friends. Then again, her dad was also kind of a loner and that didn't stop him from drinking himself to sleep every night. There's all kinds of alcoholics, she reminded herself.

Raven brought her out of her thoughts with a single yell from across the street.

"Griff!"

Raven walked towards her all smug. She knew Clarke would show up after that threat and she was enjoying the power she had over her friend. Clarke wanted to be upset, or at least look like it, but Raven went from smug to mushy as she finally reached her and hugged her like they hadn't seen each other in two weeks. Which they hadn't.

"Finally out of your cave, huh?"

"Not by choice."

"Please. You missed me. You just needed a reminder."

"You threatened to sick my mom on me."

"Did not. I just casually mentioned I might talk to your mom at some point"

"You knew I couldn't say no and you're an asshole" Clarke playfully punched Raven on the arm as they walked into the diner. Raven rubbed her arm, as if the punch had really hurt her.

"OK, OK, I threatened you. But be honest…"

"What?"

"You missed me."

"I…might have thought about you now and again when I wasn't so busy working. And maybe considered checking your Facebook to see if you were alive."

"Aw, you missed me" Raven pretended to be touched by Clarke's words and Clarke laughed in spite of herself. They went into the diner sat down at the first table they found. The place was full and no waiters had noticed them yet.

"I'm guessing you didn't just bring me here to talk about how much I've missed you, right?"

"You underestimate my need for constant adoration" Raven took one of the menus on the table and searched through it, distractedly.

"Raven."

"Clarke." This time, Raven looked up from the menu. Clarke was serious.

"Come on. What do you want to talk about? Did you really just want to catch up?"

"Yeah" Raven acted insulted. "Of course I wanted to catch up." And then, nervously "But, also-"

"Hello, girls"

Clarke turned around. Abby was there, holding her coat in her hands and smiling like she didn't know Clarke didn't want to see her.

"Abby wanted to see you. I'm-I'm sorry". Whispered Raven. The banter was gone and Raven ducked her head, not wanting to meet Clarke's angry glare.

"May I sit down?" Asked Abby, hopefully.

It was going to be a longer night than usual.


	2. Intro II: Clarke

"You can sit. I'm leaving." Clarke says to Abby, standing up with absolute resolution. She won't stand for this; being conned by her own friend into talking to her mom.

"Clarke, where're you going?" Abby calls out to her, aggravated. Clarke was standing up and putting on her coat, not even acknowledging her at the table.

"Don't do this." Raven whispers. She's disappointed. So much so, that it came out almost inaudible.

"You don't get to tell me anything right now." Clarke spat at her.

"I just wanna have dinner with my daughter. I don't see how that's too much to ask, Clarke." Abby was surprisingly calm. She probably expected this, Clarke thought. So why even bother coming?

"So you just thought you wouldn't ask at all and get Raven to trick me into coming here?" She looked at her mom for the first time. What a mistake. Abby looked unrested. Nervous, like a child being reprimanded.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic." Raven sits tightly. Arms crossed, trying to control her temper. Clarke would be intimidated if she wasn't trying so hard to control her temper too.

"I mean it, Raven. Don't even look at me right now."

"Honey, please. You're making a scene. Just sit down." Abby begged. Clarke looked around. People from all tables were looking at her. Pryingly. Clarke felt silly for a moment. "Please." Her mom tried again.

"Just hear her out, Clarke. You're already here." Her friend sounded a bit calmer. Probably because she could tell Clarke was considering it, at least. "She's your mom, what are you doing? Sit down. Come on."

"Fine…" Clarke took her coat off and sat down again.

"Thank you." Her mom was grateful and surprised it had worked.

"Don't thank me yet. I might walk out any moment now. I'm still deciding."

"I wasn't trying to trick you, hun. I had a seminar in the city and if you had bothered to read my emails or answer my calls you'd know I was coming here for the weekend. I didn't come here to try to push you into anything, OK?" Clarke rolled her eyes. "I just want to have dinner with my daughter. Nothing more. Just dinner. I don't think that's too much to ask of you." It wasn't. For a moment, Clarke tried to think of a single reason why she couldn't have dinner with her mother other than the fact that it hurt too much. She kept quiet.

"Do you hate me that much?" Abby's voice almost got trapped in her throat and she starts to well up. Raven instinctively took her hand.

"Mom…"

"Why can't we just talk? Why- H-Has talking to me become so unbearable for you that you can't seat through one meal with me?" Abby fights back emotion.

"Of course she can." Raven tells Abby. She was back to being mad. Defensive. She had always been very protective of Abby. "She will." Raven looks pointedly at her friend.

"Raven, I swear to god…" Clarke wasn't having any Raven's attitude tonight. The promise of an intimate meal with her friend after so long now ruined by a stupid lie. It stung.

"No! You stop this right now. Your mom had to call me to get a chance to see you and she shouldn't have, Clarke. She cares about you and she's here and you're not even going to appreciate the fact that she keeps trying even though you've been treating her like shit for months?"

"Raven…" Abby tries to appease the girl.

"No, she needs to hear it."

"Honey, calm down. It's fine."

"I don't hate you…" Clarke finally talks.

"Then what's your fucking problem?!" Clarke flinches so hard at Raven's sudden outburst it is almost embarrassing. Abby notices and that just makes it even worse for her.

"Raven!" At Abby's warning, Raven shies away. Crossing her arms again and leaning further back into her seat. She throws Clarke a quick, almost unnoticeable apologetic look.

Once Clarke has gathered herself, and secretly grateful at her mom's interference, she tries to stand her ground against Abby again. "I wanted to have a choice! I wanted to be asked. You never ask, you just assume and you push and you meddle and I'm tired of not having a choice with you. Ever. I didn't choose to come here, you made me."

"Because you wouldn't pick up your phone or I would've told you myself."

"Not answering the phone is still my choice to make. Mine. Not seeing you is a choice. Is not forever, is not because I hate you, is because I can't- I don't want to see you right now. Why can't you just respect that?"

"Because it's a stupid choice…" Raven whispers, unable to hold her tongue.

"Because you are my daughter and I have the right to know if you're OK. And if I have to push and meddle and get your friends to help me make sure that you are then that's what I'm going to do. If that bothers you, if it makes you angry, I'm sorry, Clarke. But I am your mother and I love you and I am not going to apologize for that."

"What about what I want? What about what I need? What if I just need to be left alone?"

Raven jumps at Clarke's mention of wanting to be left alone, furious. "Like that's done you any good?"

"What do _you_ know?" The blonde can feel herself getting heated. She wants a fight now. If not with Abby, then her friend will do.

"Nothing, Clarke! I know nothing because you disappeared from our lives the minute you heard Jake was dying! And it is not fair. It's not fucking fair. We need you. Abby needs you. And you need to get your head out of your ass and face the fact that Jake's gone. And no matter how hard you try to ignore us, it won't change the fact that he's gone, Clarke."

That disarms her. Her anger dissipates. She was expecting Raven to lash out, but her honesty is unnerving. Unsettling. A startling discomfort creeps up on her, spreading out through her entire body. It's not what she wanted from the conversation.

"Raven, that's enough! You need to calm down." Clarke can tell Abby senses that comment truly got to her. Because she is her mom and she knows everything, no matter how hard she tries to hide from her. Out of seemingly nowhere, it all becomes too much for Raven. She stands up and leaves without a word. Abby lets her and Clarke barely notices.

"Clarke, honey-"

Clarke's eyes are fixed on her shoes, both her hands gripping at the edges of the table. She can't bare to do anything other that sit there. "All I can see when I look at you is dad dying and you not loving him anymore."

It takes Abby a moment to comprehend what her daughter just said. Clarke feels she'll retaliate with anger. Hopes she will. She still wants a fight. "I get that you're angry and you're grieving-"

"No, you don't get it. I loved him." Clarke interrupts. As if that simple statement was an argument in itself.

"-but you don't get to say that to me."

"It's the truth." Abby knows Clarke's bitter. She knows her daughter's trying to push her. Push her buttons. Push her away. However, despite knowing, she takes the bait.

"I loved Jake. I loved him with all my heart."

"Pfff" Clarke doesn't want to hear it.

"I loved him and he loved me and then he started drinking and I had to work double shifts every week just to keep a roof over our heads. You think I wanted that? You think I wanted that life for me? For you?" The doctor feels herself on the verge of crying, so she takes a deep breath. Clarke's stealing shy looks at her. That means she's listening, Abby hopes, and forces herself to continue. "Every night I got home you were asleep on your father's lap and I had to drag him to bed. Literally drag him through the floor, trying not to wake you. The only time I had you to myself was on the weekends, but all you wanted to do was to spend time with him because he was fun. He was the fun parent who got to know you and watch you grow up and all I could do was watch you from the sidelines and make sure you were alright. I couldn't be your best friend too, Clarke. I couldn't compete with him. I had to be the mom. I had to work and check your homework and meddle because Jake wouldn't and he was drunk all the time. And I wish it hadn't been like that. I wish I had been the one you went to when Finn broke your heart or when Raven had her accident, but I let you go to Jake because I didn't know how to help. I didn't know you. I never got the chance because Jake stole that from me when he got himself fired from the police station. And even though I resented him, I loved him. Because he gave me a daughter that made my life up until the point you were born seem pointless and he was a good dad, despite his bad habits. He loved you and I loved him but the alcohol changed him and turned him into someone I couldn't recognize any more. He was a stranger to me when you left for nurse school, but he was your dad and I took care of him when he was diagnosed with liver failure and I tried to nurse him to health as hard as I could, but I failed. And for that I am sorry. I'm so, so sorry. But I tried. For you. And because I was in love with him, once. And I will never love anyone as much as I loved your dad the day we got married or the day you were born, and that still means something to me and I won't let anyone, let alone my own daughter, tell me I didn't love that man. I loved him until his dying breath and I still do now. So I do get it, Clarke. That's why we need to help each other through this. Can't you see that?"

Clarke's speechless. Her mother has never shown herself this honest and open and forgiving to her. And it hurts. It burns. She feels like her insides are on fire and her mouth goes dry. This is not what she wanted. She wanted a fight. She wanted to yell and be yelled at and get it over with. She wanted Abby out of her life, but now she can't stop thinking about how cruel life was to both of them. How this is not just her pain. And it makes her head spin. She can't unclench her fists. She can't do anything.

"I-I-I can't-" Clarke tries to get out, her breathing erratic and her eyes full of tears. She hopes Abby understands that she can't. She can't give her anything right now. And once she dares look at Abby, pleading with her eyes to make the suffering stop, she can see her mom gets it. Of course she gets it. She's her mom. And it comforts her, but makes the affliction sitting on her chest even heavier.

Abby lunges herself at her. Delicately at first, waiting for Clarke to wince or push her off. But the minute her daughter lets her, Abby hugs her to her chest. She doesn't cry though. And Clarke wants to thank her for letting her be the one to cry and grieve tonight. For not pushing it.

"I can't right now. I can't. It hurts to look at you. All I see is him and it hurts. Standing here in front of you hurts, mom. I'm sorry." Clarke cries softly on her mother's chest. She forgets for a moment they're out in public. She feels like she just woke up from a nightmare in her childhood room and Abby's there to console her.

"It's OK. Everything's gonna be OK, baby." Her mother's fingers through her hair feel soft. And wrong, after everything she has said to her that night. But lets herself be taken care of for a minute.

After a few minutes, Clarke stops shaking. A waiter comes over and asks if they're gonna order, but Abby says they're leaving and leads Clarke to the entrance. Clarke's still sniffling, coming to terms with what just happened.

"I'll walk with Raven back to her apartment. I'll call you a cab, OK?" Clarke looks briefly through the window. Raven's walking in circles outside the diner, like a caged lion. She smiles to herself. Raven's mad at her for being stupid. And because she cares. And she's very predictable. Knowing that comforts her almost as much as her mother's hug.

"OK" Is all she manages to say.

Abby takes her hands in hers. "I love you." She states, looking straight into her eyes. Trying to make Clarke remember. Hoping she'll never forget. And before Clarke can really answer, Abby kisses her fondly on the cheek and walks out.

"I love you too." Clarke whispers to no one, as she waits for both women to be out of her sight.

Clarke was eight years old when her father got fired from the police. She wasn't sure what that meant then, only that her father would be staying home more which sounded like a dream come true. They could watch cartoons all morning and play with the dog before lunch and eat way too much cereal in the afternoons and then go to the park on her bike before heading home for the night. Those were the best summers. Now it'd be like summer break every day of the year. That's what Clarke heard when her mom told her her dad had to stay home.

One night, Clarke was unable to sleep after hearing her parents fighting from her room. When she goes downstairs to get her blanket from the living room she finds that the light are still on, even though it's 11 PM. She also finds Abby, crying silently into her hands, sitting at the bottom of the stairs.

"Why are you crying, mommy? Is it because of dad?"

Abby jumps at Clarke's voice and immediately starts wiping her tears. She skillfully smiles. That measured, tight-lipped smile that Clarke finds so disconcerting.

"Yes." It's a simple answer. Abby doesn't see the point in lying.

"Did daddy do something bad?"

"He did." Abby smiles falters for a second. Clarke's scared.

"Do you still love him?" She asks. It feels like something big is changing. Shifting.

"I do. It's just that…sometimes the people we love make us sad. But we don't stop loving them, Clarke." _That's the problem_ , Clarke hears. Abby let's out a sob. It's short; controlled. She's watching Clarke, alert of her reaction. Clarke nods in understanding. _Even if the people we love hurt us, we must keep loving them_ , she understands.

"Is dad going to get grounded?"

Abby laughs softly, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. "No, he's not."

Clarke's angry now. Dad made her mom cry because he's been bad. She puts her hands on her hips, unwavering. "Then what are you going to do about it, mommy?"

Abby tilts her head, amused. It feels like a defining moment for them. She struggles to say the right thing to this inexperienced and trusting little girl. "I'm going to try and love him until he stops doing bad things."

Love is control, Clarke realizes. Love's knowing the other person's going to hurt us and not letting them walk away afterwards. Love's worrying about the other person's well being at all times. Love's waiting for bad things to happen and getting anxious when they don't, because they will. Love's her mother asking Jake if he loves alcohol more than them, and Jake only saying he's sorry. Love's Abby asking her dad what she can do to make him stop that she hasn't already and Jake accusing her of falling out of love with him years ago. Love's not being able to sleep at night because your dad took the car and you're worried the phone's going to ring at any moment and a cop's going to tell you your dad got himself killed on the highway on his way back from the bar. Clarke learns all of this before she's even fifteen.

She still hears her mother cry sometimes. She's not sure when that became a thing because in a way it feels like Abby's been wanting to cry ever since she can remember. It manifests in her strict tone of voice, even on days that are easy. In the way she's always vigilant, always looking intently at her and her dad over dinner. Afraid to let anyone out of her sight. She's too encouraging, Clarke notices. Too involved in every little detail. Her eyes always hollow as she smiles, overly enthusiastic as her daughter grows into her teen years. By then, she recognizes the atypical permeating smell on Jake's clothes and breath as alcohol. A smell, sometimes stench, that's just so, so Jake, in Clarke's mind. And it plays such a big role in most of her childhood memories with her dad that it makes her stomach turn when she finally realizes why.

Love's exhausting.

It's 8 AM and Clarke hasn't really started her shift yet when Raven appears at the counter as she's putting on her apron.

"Raven, what the-?"

"We need to talk." Raven's not giving her a choice. She's riled up already, despite it being 7 in the fucking morning.

"I can't."

"You can. Outside. Let's go." Raven bangs the counter for emphasis.

"Raven, I can't just take a break whenever I want to, you know?" Clarke says, trying to avoid the confrontation all together. But Raven's smarter than that and looks around until her eyes find Wick.

"Hey Wick, mind if I borrow Griffin for ten minutes?"

Wick looks up from the cash register, checking out Raven, up and down. A self-satisfied smile on his face.

"Go right ahead" He flirts, like usual. Raven winks at him with a confident smirk.

"Thanks" Raven grabs Clarke's arm and drags her outside into the hallways of the giant building. Clarke snatches her arm back, annoyed.

"Did you even stop to consider maybe I don't wanna talk to you?"

"Too bad."

"Why are _you_ giving me attitude? I should be mad at you after that stunt you pulled last night."

"You…?- I'm not gonna apologize for letting Abby see you." It seems so obvious to Raven that Clarke's in the wrong. So much so that Clarke can't will herself to fight with her, confused.

"Then we have nothing to talk about." The blonde tries to walk back in, but Raven grabs her arm again.

"Oh, we've got plenty to talk about." Clarke stays, wanting to know where it's all going.

"You can't just walk out on your mom like that. You know how worried she's been?"

"I don't care." Not even she believes that.

"I think you do. And we both know it."

Clarke puffs crossly. "What do you want, Raven?"

Raven's wrath wavers and Clarke can feel her stomach knotting. Raven's emotional and that's never good. "You. I want my best friend back."

She's taken back by it, but pretends she doesn't understand. "I'm here."

"No. You're not, Clarke."

"Sto-"

"No, you stop!" Clarke jumps, scared. Raven's voice cuts through the fogginess in her brain and suddenly she's very aware that she's up, that it's very early, that there are people walking hastily past them and that this is serious. "Look, I know losing Jake has been hard on you. I know the house doesn't feel the same without him there. I get it. But you can't just shut your mom out like that. It's not her fault."

"She was cheating on him." Clarke states. It feels like a weak excuse though.

"Clarke, Jake hadn't spoken or even looked her way for years. And she's not even dating Marcus. Not yet, anyway."

"Are- are you really- what, are you defending her?" Clarke can't believe what she's hearing. Raven's so calm it's infuriating.

"I'm not defending her, fuck. I'm trying to make you see the bigger picture here, alright? Yes, your mom was- is into someone else. And your dad had been drinking himself stupid for years. They weren't OK, Clarke. They hadn't been OK in a long, long time. We both knew that. Why are you acting like this now?"

She can't believe her friend even has to ask. "Because my dad died!" She cries.

"But your mom didn't. She's here, Clarke. And she's crashing at my apartment and she'd really like to see her only daughter after losing you both when Jake died."

"Stop saying his name!" Clarke shudders, but Raven's insistent. She knows she's getting through to her friend.

"Jake's gone. I know it's hard for you to hear, but you need to hear it."

"Like I don't know he's gone? Like I haven't noticed?!" Clarke's insulted now. And hurt. Raven can see that and she holds up her hands, trying to placate the blonde girl.

"We're family…right?" Raven tries again, calmly. Clarke looks at her with distrust. "That's what you've always said."

"Yeah..."

"Well, family can call each other out on their bullshit. So this is me calling you out on yours." Clarke's dumbfounded by this. "Where've you been Clarke?" Raven's truly asking her now. She sounds distressed.

"I'm here, Raven."

"Here, where? In this shithole serving coffee? Locked in your apartment?" Raven laughs bitterly, running her hand through her hair frustrated. "Have you even been going to your shrink?"

"I have." Raven looks at her, daring her to lie to her face. "I have! I've been going every week like I said I would just to get you and my mother off my back. Obviously it hasn't worked."

Raven nods. She believes her. Then, her eyes soften. "Where are you, Clarke?" She asks quietly. Clarke's done with it.

"Stop asking that. I'm here, dammit. I'm here, Raven. I'm right here." She wants to shake her friend until she stops asking her questions she doesn't have the answers to. Raven's silent.

After a beat, "I missed my physical therapy this month. It was on Monday. I waited for you to pick me up just like you always have and you didn't show up. Did you know that?"

"No." Clarke's entire mood deflates. She feels sick now. "I didn't. Shit…" She sighs, defeated. "Did you re-schedule-?"

"I already went. It's fine." Her best friend dismisses the topic, but Clarke can tell there's something there.

"Are you…? Fine?"

"No. My leg's been acting up because of the cold and I had to get a cab because everyone else was working and it fucking hurts to walk most days, Clarke. And the worst part is not even knowing that I have to live with that pain for the rest of my life, the worst part is that my best friend, the only real family I have, is not there when I need her. Where were you this Monday?"

"I…" For the first time, Clarke allows herself to consider that question. Where was she? What _has_ she been doing? All days feel the same lately. "I don't know." Then it hits her. "Fuck, I don't know. I forgot, I'm-"

"Don't apologize, just stop hiding. I'm sick of missing you. We all are." A warm tenderness spreads through Clarke's chest. Raven's not angry or defensive or pretending anymore. She's worried and genuinely misses her. It makes her ache for something, but she's not sure what.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about your leg and I'm sorry I've been a-wall for the past month, it's just-I've-I'm…" She doesn't have an answer and the realization makes her dizzy. Tears spring to her eyes without her even noticing. Raven feels guilty for a moment and rubs Clarke's arm, trying to soothe her.

"Hey. Hey, it's OK."

"It's not." Clarke lets out, calming herself down.

"No, it's not. But I was trying to make you feel better." Clarke laughs at her dig and Raven smiles at her. After a moment, the fight's almost forgotten.

"I'm still mad at you for not telling me my mom was coming to dinner." The blonde jokes, but Raven knows there's some truth behind it.

"She's your mom, Clarke. She misses you the most."

"I know…"

"And now she's all alone in that house. You won't even answer her calls. It's not right."

"I'm not gonna move back home just 'cause my mom misses me."

"No one's telling you to move back home, just answer your fucking phone every once in a while. Let her know you're alive. That you're doing better. That's all." It's aggressive, but Clarke knows that's Raven's way of encouraging her.

It makes her feel defenseless and can't stop herself from talking now. "I'm scared of talking to her."

"I know."

"I miss my dad, Raven." Clarke instinctively hugs herself as she brings up the topic.

"I know, babe." Raven takes her hand and rubs little circles on it. Clarke knows she knows, but she needed to say it.

"It feels like…like I don't have a home anymore." She admits out loud.

Raven's a bit surprised. "You've got me. And Abby. And Octavia and Bellamy and Lincoln and we're all just waiting for you to give us a signal so we can come get you when you're ready."

"No, I know. I know. And I love you all, you know I do. And I miss everyone, but…It's just- It's not the same."

"Of course not. You lost your dad. Nothing's gonna be the same again. Doesn't mean it's all gonna be bad from now on."

"Yeah but he was my home. He was-He was my dad. He…" Clarke's not sure she can go on. Not sure she can share the things that are going through her head. Raven can almost hear her brain working overtime and gives Clarke's hand a squeeze, nudging her to go on. "He, you know, he made the most disgusting soups when I was sick…and…he slipped me extra money every month after I'd spent all my allowance. And he picked me up from Bell's birthday the first time I got drunk when I was sixteen and he didn't even tell my mom because I promised him I'd never do it again, and he didn't tell her even though he _knew_ that was a lie. He knew. And he never judged, ever. He always listened, no matter how drunk he was, you know? He was _there_. Which is more than I can say for my mom. Sometimes we'd watch old westerns on nights my mom would work late, and he'd drink his beers and tell me all about the matinees he used to catch with his friends as a kid. Three movies in a row, all of them westerns because he was obsessed with cowboys and wanted to be a sheriff. And my mom would get home and scold him for drinking all the beers and sent us both to bed, so angry and bitter and…She never even asked how I was. It was always _how's school, what about your grades, you go out too much, I don't like that boy for you_. And my dad would sit right behind her when she'd start nagging me about something and make faces at me while she yelled and I tried not to laugh but, god, he was such a child…so stupid, I couldn't help but laugh and it'd drive my mom crazy..."

Raven laughs, unfazed by the intensity of her statement. It makes Clarke feel so safe, she lets out a small laugh too. The easiness stirring her to carry on. "Mom was always there for the really bad things, she was, but she was never there for the good things. She was never there on days when nothing happened. She never got our inside jokes. She never really saw me as anything other than her daughter. My dad saw me, Raven. He knew who I was and who I wanted to be and he was so proud. Always. I could've told him cleaning pools made me happy and he'd encouraged me to be the best pool-girl in the world and he never would've doubted I could do it. My mom just isn't- She isn't him, Raven. And he's gone and now that house's empty for me. There's nothing there for me and I can't look at her because I miss him and she's never gonna get it because she was never home and she didn't even love him anymore, but I still do and I wish I could stop. Just stop loving him like she did, but I can't. I fucking can't."

On the verge of tears, Clarke covers her face. She won't cry again, she tells herself. She takes deep breaths and her friend hugs her with so much care she almost lets out a sob, but manages to keep it together. "I'm a mess." She whispers. It was meant as a joke, but it comes out as announcement. Clarke Griffin, official mess.

"You're gonna be alright." Her friend doesn't let her fall into that spiral. Clarke grins, grateful.

"I don't know how to stop. How do I stop feeling like this? What do I do?" It feels good to share such deep-seeded fears with Raven again. She feels a little lighter. Raven pulls back from the hug and looks at her openly. For the first time in months, she's understanding Clarke again.

"Well, first of all, you gotta call your mom." Clarke's going to protest, but Raven stops her. "I know you don't want to, but we both know that you need to. Talk to Abby, keep going to your shrink and for fucks sake, answer your phone when we call you."

Clarke chuckles.

"None of us are going anywhere, but we want to see you. Actually see you. In person. Not read your texts or hear your voice through the phone."

"I know. I love you guys." Clarke avoids her eyes, but grabs her friend's hands.

"Don't get all sappy now." Raven punches her arm with a complacent smirk.

"Hey, I just lost my dad. You could stand to be a little nicer to me. Let me be a sap." Clarke punches her back, and it feels familiar. It feels like home for a second.

"Fine." Raven pretends to be annoyed. And then, "I lost him too, you know?"

Clarke looks up at her again. Wholeheartedly this time. "I know…"

"You're going to be OK. We'll get through it." Raven seems so sure.

"I hope so."

"We will. You just need to go out more. Get some air. Meet new people. Maybe get some…" Raven makes an obscene gesture with her hands and Clarke's reminded once again of why she loves this girl.

"Stop." Clarke pretends to be grossed out. "I'll try. To go out more, I mean, not the sex part."

"You should try both. It'd be good for you."

"I'm not ready to be with anyone. Look at me. I'm a disaster."

"Yeah, but you're a _hot_ disaster, Clarke Griffin. What are you talking about?" Raven says seriously. Clarke laughs and hugs her again.

"A sexy ass bomb-shell of a disaster" Raven hugs her back.

"Stop"

After their little tiff slash heart-to-heart slash reconciliation, Raven had told Clarke they needed to have a real diner together. No Abby, no angry Octavia, no protective Bellamy, no worrisome Lincoln. Just the two of them, a pizza and a few beers. And to her own surprise, Clarke immediately said yes, instead of making Raven convince her. And honestly, she was excited. She hadn't gone out in months and the cafeteria job was so mind-numbing, she could use some of Raven's outrageous sex stories and crass jokes to escape her dreary self-imposed routine for a night. The brunette told her everything she had missed in the past few months. Octavia and Lincoln had moved in together; a fact that had gone undetected by her fiery blue-eyed friend. It wasn't until Bellamy refused to take her part of the rent because she wasn't staying there anymore that it hit her. Clarke giggled to the point of almost pissing herself when Raven told her that the realization had thrown Octavia into some sort of life crisis and she'd told Lincoln they should take a break, only to get extremely drunk that same night, throw up on their bed and then beg Lincoln to never let her drink so much again. On his part, Lincoln had expected that sort of reaction, so he had mentally prepared himself to handle an overly emotional drunk Octavia. Now they were happier than ever, of course. "I hear wedding bells" Raven had said. It didn't surprise Clarke. She had been hearing wedding bells for those two ever since Octavia and her crashed that frat party on their first year of college where she met Lincoln and they ended up competing over who was in better shape, showing of their muscles and, inevitably, ending up in bed while Clarke got high with Jasper and Monty in another room.

Bellamy was still working as a cop, taking a different girl home every weekend and just living the life, really. Raven was almost done with her mechanical engineering degree and wanted to focus on getting a job in the automotive industry. One day, she'd design the perfect race car, she told Clarke. Clarke believed her.

They gossiped and laughed until there was no more pizza left and it was officially almost too late for Clarke to go home. But because she still felt nervous about being out, already starting to miss the safety of her tiny apartment, she convinced Raven to let her go, promising to drive safe.

As she walked out of the apartment to get in her car, she noticed a lonely figure in front of the diner where they'd met Abby the night before. Once again, she recognized the unruly hair, the small frame and delicate features accentuated by the backlight of the street light. The girl struggling to light a cigarette. Lexa. Clarke hadn't seen her that morning and assumed the curly haired girl had gone down to the cafeteria while she was outside talking to Raven. The thought bothered her and made her resentful towards Raven for a second, until she remembered what she was getting angry about. She tried not to dwell on it and told herself she was just excited about having talked to someone new. It didn't matter that Lexa wasn't particularly chatty or that she still hadn't figured out if it was safe to assume they could be friends in the future. It was exciting in comparison to the bleak life she had been leading lately. So she let herself enjoy it. And she let herself walk over to the girl. As she crossed the street, she noticed the street light hit Lexa's eyes. They looked so green; almost phosphorescent. It made her look otherworldly for a second and Clarke nearly stopped at the sight. But she willed herself to go speak to her. It's not as if she hadn't noticed the girl was strikingly beautiful before. She told herself there was no reason to be nervous. She was just making a friend. No underlying intentions. For all she knew, the girl was straight. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the fretting thoughts that were pilling up in her brain.

When she was close enough, Clarke spoke up. "Hey."

Lexa jumped, scared out of her wits, dropping the cigarette on her hands to the floor along with her lighter. And her wallet and her phone and a bunch of other stuff from her pockets as she crouched down to pick everything up. Lexa looked up, surprised to recognize the voice.

"Shit, hi. Sorry. I'm-"

"It's OK. I startled you. Sorry."

"It's OK."

They both laughed and Clarke kneeled down to help her, gathering some things on her hands and handing them to her.

"Thanks." Lexa smiled shyly, not meeting her eyes, and Clarke remembered then just how closed off the girl was. In her mind, Lexa was more open. Lexa feels at ease around her. Like when they were in her car. She's been holding on to that memory of the brunette, forgetting all their other interactions have been borderline robotic.

"Here you go." Clarke hands her a bunch of coins, an old button and a gold chip that said "6 months of sobriety". Clarke pretended not to notice.

"What are you doing here?" Asked Lexa. She was still shaking a bit.

"I was having dinner with a friend. She lives nearby. You?"

"I was…" Lexa looks cornered and Clarke feels terrible. She considers making up an excuse for her but figures that'd just be harder.

"6 months, huh? Congratulations." Clarke points to the A.A chip on Lexa's hand with a candid smile and prays the girl doesn't run. For a moment, it looks like she might. She looks even more cornered and flustered now. I ruined it, Clarke thinks.

"You saw that…" Lexa looks away, putting the cigarette back in her mouth.

"Yeah."

Lexa nods absentmindedly. She doesn't know what to say. It feels like all has been said with that small declaration from Clarke. She feels embarrassed and the blonde picks up on it.

"Hey, it's fine." Clarke nudges her shoulder with her own. A gesture that almost immediately feels too intimate for them, Clarke thinks, but Lexa's so absorbed in her thoughts that it actually helps bring her back into the conversation. Lexa looks at her, uncertain. "Congratulations. I mean it." Clarke says it with as much conviction as she can. And she pulls it off so well, Lexa shies away again and fixes her eyes on the ground, lighting her cigarette.

"It's nothing…" She takes the first drag of her cigarette, quickly. Anxious.

"It's not nothing." Clarke's quick to dispute, shaking her head. "My dad never made it past the second month."

With that, the pressure and awkwardness shifts to Clarke. Now _she_ feels on the spot. Lexa looks at her intently, almost as if trying to detect if she's lying. And when she sees the blonde's being honest, her shoulders slump as she exhales all the smoke from her lungs, letting the tension slip away. Clarke senses her confession put the girl at ease and it makes her feel a bit better.

"I'm sorry." Lexa says after a while, watching the smoke disappear into the night sky.

"It's fine." The brunette gives her a weird look of disbelief. "I mean, no. It was shit. But it's fine now." Clarke laughs through the awkwardness and is surprised when Lexa reciprocates. She's sure they can both understand just how shit it can be.

There's a silence but it feels like Lexa's. Clarke waits for her to say something, hoping she might not want the interaction to end yet. And when it finally comes, it's not what she expected.

"You don't have to talk to me." Lexa states. A flash of hurt crossed Clarke's and Lexa swallows, nervous again. She takes a puff of her cigarette. "If you don't want to, I mean. I don't want you to feel obligated to talk to me just because we talked the other day and you-"

Clarke's relieved when Lexa starts rambling. For a second, she thought the girl was dismissing her. She tries not to ask herself why Lexa's hypothetical rejection hurt so much.

"I know I don't have to." Clarke interrupts and almost wants to laugh.

"I'm not good at small talk." She says. Clarke nods. "Or any kind of talk for that matter." Clarke laughs at that. "I'm sorry." And there it is again. Lexa's apologizing.

"I've noticed." She jokes. Lexa can tell she's teasing her and gives her a half-smile while taking another drag from he cigarette.

"You should run from me now while you can."

"I'm not scared. Or bothered. Are you?" Clarke's suddenly very serious and it takes the air out of Lexa's lungs. But the pretty blonde's bluntness inspires her to be blunt too.

"Surprisingly, no."

"Surprisingly?" Clarke jokes.

Lexa grins. "Well, this might come as a shock to you, but I don't have a lot of friends. I only really talk to Anya. And I'm not even sure she likes me that much anymore."

Clarke laughs before another silence falls between them. This one feels more familiar. A silence they've shared before.

Lexa wants to keep the conversation going but doesn't how. Suddenly, she has a very stupid thought. "You want one?" she shakes the cigarette in front of Clarke's face. Then she takes a second to observe the blonde and feels like punching herself in the face. "No, of course you don't." The blonde's most obviously not a smoker. You can always tell when someone smokes. Clarke's too vanilla for that.

"I can answer for myself, thank you very much." Clarke jokes.

"You smoke?"

"I was a smoker for a week when I was in high school. My mom was livid when she found out. She's a doctor so you can imagine how mad she was."

The confession makes Lexa smile fondly. She feigns shock. "You were a rebellious teen?"

"Not really, I only did it to push her buttons for a while."

"And then you stopped trying to make her mad?"

"I dropped out of nursing school last year. I've never dated a girl or boy she liked. My continuous existence is my way to push her buttons." Lexa nods in understanding, holding in a laugh as she drops her cigarette to the floor. The revelation of Clarke's bisexuality making something stir in her. She doesn't know what and she doesn't want to find out why.

"Anya found out I was a smoker in college. She told my mom to try to get me in trouble. Turns out my mom was a heavy smoker when she was younger. She started stealing all my cigarettes when I would visit." Clarke's eyes sparkled in surprise. "Asked me if I smoked pot too. Try to get me to buy her some."

Clarke giggles and suddenly Lexa feels like she was born for this. She was born for talking and making jokes. Or at least, talking and making jokes with Clarke. She doesn't let that feeling settle in and quickly pushes it aside.

"She sounds fun." Says Clarke, hoping to hear more about it.

"She's a wacky hippie." That makes the blonde laugh again. "She's…cool." There's pain behind that, but if Clarke notices, she's too polite to ask about it.

Again, a silence takes over.

"So, I never got that cigarette."

"Thought you quit in school."

"Yeah, but I could use one tonight."

Lexa wants to ask but she doesn't, because she hates when people ask her things and she figures maybe so does the blonde.

"I don't wanna-" Lexa starts worriedly.

"I'm not gonna go buy a pack tomorrow or anything. Don't worry. Just one." Lexa considers it. "I mean, if you're still offering."

"Um, sure." Not wanting to seem rude, she hands Clarke a cigarette from her pocket and lights it for her.

"There you go."

"So what are you doing here?" Asks Clarke, taking the first drag out of the cigarette. Lexa almost forgets the question, entranced by how hot the curvy girl looks with a cigarette in her hand.

"I come from a meet-"

"I mean, I know. But like, standing here on this corner in the cold."

"Oh, Anya's picking me up. I wanted to walk home but she didn't let me." Lexa shrugs.

"She sounds-"

"She's… _intense_." Clarke nods in understanding, thinking of Abby and Raven.

"How did your meeting go?"

"It was OK. I got a prize for not getting drunk. That's something, I guess." Lexa laughs as to not sound bitter.

"Congratulations, really."

"Thanks."

"Are you celebrating?"

"Anya wanted to take me out to dinner."

"But?"

"I told her to go to hell, basically."

Clarke lets out a roaring laugh. Lexa snickers.

"Your relationship with your sister's heart-warming."

"I just don't see the point in celebrating something as mediocre as not getting drunk." Lexa rubs the back of her neck.

"It's not mediocre. It's a disease. Would you tell a woman who's beating cancer to not celebrate the fact that she's not dying?" It comes out so serious, Lexa laughs.

"You artists are so dramatic."

Clarke's ashamed now of her little outburst. "OK, OK, that was a bit much…"

"I'll say…" The brunette teases her along.

"OK, dramatic, I know. But I mean it, like, you know a lot of people never even face their addiction. They drink themselves to death. At least you're trying. That's admirable."

Lexa wants to believe her. "You think?"

"We're all trying to get by. It should be celebrated."

"Well, I already told Anya to go to hell so…I might just have another cigarette to celebrate."

Clarke's amused at her self-deprecating replies. "You're dark. You've got a strange, dark sense of humor." The curly haired girl seems afraid, not sure if she's being insulted. "I like it." Clarke assures her.

Lexa smiles in relief.

"You don't think I'm weird?"

"I wouldn't know. I'm weird too." Clarke shrugs, taking a puff of the cigarette.

"You don't seem weird."

"What do I seem like?"

For a moment, Lexa just lets herself be. "Honestly?"

Clarke's intrigued. Mostly because Lexa seems as involved in the conversation as her. "You look like an ex-cheerleader who was probably homecoming queen at the prom."

Clarke holds back a giggle as her cheeks go red. "That's…that's actually not far from the truth…"

Lexa laughs, mocking her. It's playful and care-free and Clarke feels as weightless as a little girl in that moment.

"I wasn't a cheerleader though; I was class president."

"Of course." Lexa says, as if she's already got her completely figured out.

"Hey. Class president's respectable. More than head cheerleader."

"Where you the valedictorian too?" Now Lexa's just openly mocking her. Clarke blushes again and grins.

"Oh, god." Lexa's laughing again. Every time she laughs, she holds back less and less.

"And what were you? The science nerd?" Clarke asks, trying to turn things around.

"I was the freaky loner kid who made people cry on the debate team."

The blonde shakes her head and laughs in spite of herself. "Well, can't say I'm surprised."

A new silence falls between them. Not so familiar. They're sharing more personal stories, but not personal enough.

Lexa wants to ask when that started. When did she start to feel so comfortable around this girl she barely knew. Instead, she lets herself be a little smug as she used to be in college and continue the banter. "So, what's the class president doing talking to the the freaky loner from the debate team?"

Clarke's startled by that question. It feels important, even if it's in jest. She wants to be earnest. "I don't know. It's…good- nice talking to someone who doesn't…" Lexa waits. "Pity me."

"Why would anyone pity you?"

"Because my dad died."

"Huh." Lexa puts her hands in her pockets. She's contemplating whether to say something or not, as usual. When Lexa looks away, Clarke's curious. "When my girlfriend died I couldn't go anywhere without people telling me stories about her. Like they were afraid I would forget she existed or something. Everyone wanted to make sure I knew just how bad they felt for me. It just makes people feel better about themselves. It's terrible."

Clarke's stunned by the revelation. She tries to ignore the feeling stirring in her when she hears the word _girlfriend_. "That came out a lot more bitter and sour than I intended to." Says Lexa.

"No, no, I get it. I feel the same way. It's like, I know you're all sorry, but I'm the one who has to keep living without my dad. I feel bad enough without other people telling me how bad they feel for me, you know?" Clarke speaks quickly, easing her again. She doesn't want the conversation to feel as heavy as it did in the beginning.

"Yeah, I know. People want to help but grieving…no one can do it for you. You have to get better by yourself by just…living it. I think. I don't know, that's how it was for me." Lexa shrugs as if she had just said something stupid. Some trivial. It amazed Clarke how blind Lexa was to the power of her words. How accurate her comments were, at times. On topics that mattered, at least.

"How long ago…?"

"Three years now." Lexa lets out. She doesn't seem sad. Only nostalgic.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't you start pitying me now."

"I would never." Clarke laughs softly.

The blonde wants to say a million things more when a car nearby honks. Lexa looks around until she notices her sister's car in the other corner.

"That's Anya. I have to go." Clarke nods. "Do you need a ride?"

"Oh no, I drove here. I just came over to talk to you."

"Oh, sorr-"

"Please stop apologizing. It's cute, but you need to stop."

The remark catches her by surprise, and Lexa instinctively smiles, coyly. "Cute?"

Clarke swallows and is about to answer. She doesn't know what, but she needs to say something to clear the air. But then Anya honks again.

"OK, I'm going now. I'll- we'll see each other I guess. I mean-"

"I know where you work, so, yeah." Clarke laughs louder than she should, trying to make them both forget about what she said before. "Tomorrow?"

"Probably." Lexa's back to being shy. The moment's gone and Clarke already misses her Lexa. _Her_ Lexa?

"Bye." Clarke says, gently.

"Good night." Lexa gives her a playful smile. It's small, timid and doesn't last very long, but it nearly makes Clarke blush.

"I'll have that cherry pie for you tomorrow."

"Can't wait." Clarke doesn't know if she's being sarcastic or not but, either way, she finds it charming.

After her shift, Clarke's torn. She has an appointment with her therapist and she knows Raven's going to call her later to ask how it went. She's not fully convinced Clarke's going to keep going or make the most of it as she should. And her friend's not entirely wrong. Every time she meets with Doctor Schulze, it feels like she should be there. Like she's doing the right thing. She's trying to feel better. But at the same time, when she's there she is reminded that her life's not going right. That a lot of things need to change and she doesn't know what they are or how to change them. Not going would be a step backwards, but going makes her feel stuck.

She contemplates not going at all and treating herself to some Chinese food and Netflix when-

"Hello."

Clarke jolts and clutches her chest when she sees it's just Lexa, staring her down with an amused look.

"Sorry." Lexa bites back a laugh at Clarke's expense. Clarke blushes slightly.

"It's OK." She giggles.

"We keep sneaking up on each other."

Clarke likes the way she said _we_.

"Let's try to stop before one of us has a heart attack." Pleads the blonde. Lexa nods in agreement.

"Are you going to your car?"

"No. I have a doctor's appointment a couple of blocks away."

"Oh, my apartment that's way too." Clarke waits for her to say want she wants to hear. "Maybe-" But Lexa never finishes it. It's enough to give Clarke hope. She approached her first this time, and she's trying to sustain a conversation. The thought makes her heart skip a beat for a second, and she tries not to show it by interrupting the brunette.

"You can walk me there. I don't mind." Lexa looks crestfallen. It's not what exactly what she wanted to hear. "I'd prefer it, actually." Clarke tries. And that seems to calm her. Lexa smiles, beaming a little. Clarke tries not to find it adorable. She really does.

"OK."

The walk together, not talking for almost a whole block. Lexa keeps stealing glances at her, waiting for Clarke to initiate, as usual. Clarke pretends not to notice, too distracted by the thought of sitting through another hour with Dr. Schulze.

"Did I mention I'm not good at small talk?" it comes out of nowhere and Clarke realizes they've been walking in silence.

"You might have to take care of that today. I'm a bit…distracted."

"Bad day at work?"

"Nah, work's just…work. I…" Lexa stares at her unwavering like never before, with those big green eyes. She looks genuinely concerned. Curious. "I'm going to my therapist."

"Hmmm." Lexa takes out a cigarette and lights it. "Do you not want to go?"

"I have to."

"But you don't want to." She's not really asking.

"It's not exactly fun. Being asked extremely personal questions by a complete stranger."

"No, that doesn't sound like it'd be much fun." They share a humorless laugh. "My mom tried to get me to go therapy after Costia died." Clarke looks at her. "My girlfriend."

The blonde nods silently. "Did you?"

"No. I didn't. I didn't feel it was for me." Clarke's look at her inquisitively, like a little kid. "It wasn't what I needed at the time. I felt like I had to move on by myself."

It stings. Clarke wants to move on by herself too but can't and she hates it. "That's what I wanted but my mom sort of forced me into it."

"Your mom sounds like an almighty presence in your life." Lexa jokes.

"You have no idea..."

"But she thinks it'd help, right? Don't you?"

"I don't know. I mean, you got over Costia without it. Maybe I could do the same with my dad"

Clarke's face is an open book. She feels she should be stronger, but knows she isn't. Lexa can tell and she considers her next words very carefully.

"I didn't want therapy because it didn't feel right for me, not because it wouldn't help, though. It just wasn't the help _I_ needed. Everyone grieves differently, I think." Clarke's burning stare makes her a little nervous, but she wants to get her point across. She glares at her shoes as they walk. "And, you know, when I started…drinking. I wanted to get over that by myself too, but at some point I realized I couldn't. It was bigger than me. Then Anya suggested the meetings and now…here I am."

"Six months sober." The blonde says proud. And Lexa smiles because Clarke's proud of her for getting a stupid golden chip.

"Yeah." After a beat, Lexa continues. "One of the first things they tell you in A.A is how important it is to recognize you're not in control of your problems anymore. I'm sure that applies to everyone, not just alcoholics. With Costia I felt like I needed to process it on my own. But if I hadn't, I probably would have ended up in therapy." Clarke keeps nodding, not saying anything. Lexa can see she's confused at this confession. "What I mean is, if you think there's something you can't handle on your own, there's nothing wrong with getting help. From family or friends. A support group or therapy."

Clarke considers it. Amazed at Lexa's kindness in that moment. She didn't think the girl had it in her to be so sympathetic of others. Not under her silent, sarcastic self-critical masquerade.

"Do you like your meetings?"

"I hate them with a passion." Clarke laughs at how quickly she replies. "Every week I'm there I think about walking out. But then people start talking and sharing their stories and when they're over it feels like maybe…there's hope. You know? Like in the end it'll be worth it."

Lexa's eyes are bright and optimistic. Clarke thinks the alluring girl doesn't even realize how full of life she is. It makes Clarke want to be hopeful. It makes her want to live.

"Hope, huh? That sounds nice." They both smile. It's tender and feels like a secret. "Don't stop going." Clarke warns her, stern. Lexa laughs.

"I won't. I have to motivate myself to go most weeks, but I do it."

"Good". They're walking slowly, trying to make the moment last. Clarke notices that when she slows down, so does Lexa. She wonders if the girl does it on purpose or if she's just as immersed in their conversation as she is. She wonders if the girl knows how much it brightens her day to see her, lately. She also wonders if her offbeat and sporadic chats with Lexa make her happier than she should be.

"You think therapy will be good? For me, I mean."

The brunette bites her tongue, doubtful. "I wouldn't want-"

"I'm asking for your opinion; you're not being nosey." Clarke laughs.

"I think if you feel like you're stuck on something and you can't see a way out of it, any kind of help will be good." Clarke holds her gaze as if she's finally seeing something she hasn't before. Lexa swallows. "Right?"

"I guess." Says Clarke gently. It sounds hopeful, Lexa notices. "This is my stop."

They're in front of a two-floor house. It's a small medical center.

"Oh." She can't hide her disappointment in having to part from Clarke. "OK, well, I'll leave you to it then." She wants to leave immediately. Clarke has to go and she won't want to waste any more time on her, she figures.

"Wait. Um…You think we could do this again?"

Lexa turns around to try to read the blonde's face. She's not sure what the girl meant.

"Sneak up on each other on the streets at night? It's kind of our thing now, isn't it?"

Clarke likes how she says _our_.

"No, I meant… I could use some encouragement to come to therapy sometimes. And I could drive you to your meetings on Tuesdays like I did last week. Make it more…appealing. Not that you find my company appealing, I don't know, I just meant-" Lexa's snickering. "What?"

"I've never seen you nervous before. I'm usually the one who babbles." Lexa's got that playful smile on her face again and Clarke's blushing. Again.

"It'd help having someone walk me to my sessions. Just to take the edge off. And maybe, you could use someone to drive you to your meetings? So you won't feel like walking out every time…"

Clarke avoids Lexa's eyes, willing herself not to close them completely after saying what she's sure is the most pathetic idea she has ever had to one of the most beautiful girls she has ever seen. Clarke Griffin, official disaster.

"Um…" Clarke's sure she's going to say no. Can't bring to look at her in case she's staring at her like some kind of creep.

"It doesn't have to be set in stone. It's not a big deal. But I feel like it'd help…me. Maybe it could help you too." Clarke hopes Raven would just hit her with a monster truck right at that moment to make her shut the hell up since she's incapable of doing it herself.

"Help each other, huh?" Lexa asks. She's actually considering it and Clarke's beaming. She didn't ruin it. "I could use a ride to my meetings, I guess. Specially now that winter's approaching."

"I'll drive you next week." She says it so fast it makes her dizzy. She doesn't want Lexa to overthink it.

"OK." Lexa says, nodding quietly. Nonchalant. Meanwhile, Clarke's stomach flutters and her hands are sweating. "We can walk here together next time. It's on the way to my apartment anyway, right?"

"Right." Clarke nods quietly too, trying not to seem excited.

"OK, so…I'll let you get on with it. Hope it goes well." There's some concern underneath it. Clarke likes it.

"Thanks." Lexa waves once, shortly, and moves along. "I'll have that cherry pie for you tomorrow."

Lexa turns around, but doesn't stop walking. "You keep saying that, I'm starting to think you're just leading me on."

Is she flirting? Clarke wants to think she's not.

"You'll get it. Promised." Clarke laughs.

"OK, OK…" Lexa fakes doubt and Clarke's still laughing. She doesn't know why. She just feels like the rest of the day won't be so bad now.

She tries not to think about how easy it is for Lexa to just walk away from their conversations, though.

"So how've you been this past week?"

The office is small, full of pillows and chairs. Clarke's on a couch, leaning as far back as she can, hoping the couch would swallow her whole while playing with the zipper of her coat. Dr. Schulze's staring at her. She's not forceful about it, but just patiently waiting for her to answer.

"Good. Working a lot."

"Oh? Have you been working on your art?" She's enthusiastic about it and it feels like a punch in the gut for Clarke.

"Oh, no, no. Not really. Just…at the cafeteria." Clarke feels small and pathetic, being reminded of her dead-end job.

"And your art? That's been pushed aside?"

She's back to playing with the zipper and glancing at the floor. "Yeah, for now. I just… I haven't had a lot of inspiration to paint, lately. I don't know."

"Do you think there's any reason in particular you haven't wanted to paint?"

"No." Comes her immediate response. But she can't shake Raven's words off her mind. She's going to get better, but she needs to _try_. "Maybe…" She sees Dr. Schulze look up, surprised Clarke's initiating conversation. "Maybe just because…nothing I paint feels good enough."

"For whom?"

"For me." Clarke sighs. She's looking down at her sweating hands on her lap. "For my dad."

Dr. Schulze nods, pondering over it. "Do you feel like you've had to struggle to get your father's approval before?"

"No! No. Never. I could glue noodles on a white sheet and he would have thought I was the next Picasso." Clarke snickers, lost in memory for a second. Dr. Schulze laughs kindly.

"So why do you think he wouldn't approve now?"

"Is not that he wouldn't approve…" Clarke's almost sorry she tried now. Dr. Schulze's going to want to get to the bottom of things.

"Then…?"

"The exhibition I was working on was for him. About him."

The doctor gives her a reassuring smile. "That's nice. I'm sure he would have loved that."

"He would've. He probably would've cried when he found out I was making a whole show about him, really." Dr. Schulze nods, waiting. Always waiting. "But…Nothing I painted felt like enough. I wanted to show the world who he was, you know? All of him. But it didn't feel like I was doing him justice. Nothing I painted was enough."

"Well, he was very important to you. You cared for him deeply. I'm sure that's why you feel your paintings weren't enough and not because your work wasn't actually good."

Clarke knows that's not it. It's not that she's bad or that her love for Jake's too big. It's a mixture of feelings about his death that's got her tangled in a web of unproductive depression. "Maybe. I just sort of lost interest along the way. I started working on these paintings when I found out he was sick, but I couldn't finish them on time because they weren't good. And now…he'll never see any of it." If she were talking to anyone else, Clarke would've cried like she wanted to after admitting something like that.

"But you can still show the world who he was, right? Maybe he won't see it, but you can still do the exhibition. In his honor."

"I want to, I just can't seem to portray how amazing he was."

"Is that how you would describe your father?" Clarke stares at her, confused. "Amazing?"

"He was perfect. The best dad anyone could ever hope for." She says, without a doubt.

"Hmmm, that's a dangerous word." Begins Dr. Schulze. The blonde can tell she's being cautious.

"What?"

" _Perfect._ "

"Oh. Well, I mean, I know he wasn't perfect…"

"Do you?"

Clarke's bemused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean; you always talk to me about how good he was to you. And I'm not saying that's not true. But who was he, really?"

"I…I don't know. He was dad." Clarke's not sure what the doctor wants to hear. It sounds like a loaded question and it's hard talking about her father without getting into details about who he was. Clarke usually tries not to ask herself questions about him and just focus on the love she had for him. She starting to feel a little anxious now.

"But who is your father to you? How would you describe him? Other than amazing."

Ugh. Clarke takes a deep breath before jumping in. She's trying. For Raven and Abby. She reminds herself of this. "I wouldn't even know where to begin. I mean, he was sweet. And so, so funny. He was always joking around, playing with me 'till we were both out of breath. He was very caring, though a little spacey-"

"Spacey?"

"He was like a child. Couldn't focus on one thing for a long period of time. He was never really one for details, but it was charming, you know? It was funny."

"Was he naturally spacey or do you think that had something to do with his alcoholism?"

Clarke's eyes widened at the mentions of Jake's alcoholism. It feels out of place in the topic, even though it was a part of who he was, she knows. "Um, I think he was just very excited about life in general. I don't know about the alcoholism…"

"You make him sound like a great man-"

"He was." Clarke defends him. _What's this woman getting at?_

"But you still haven't told me who he really was, Clarke. We've had five sessions already and you've never mentioned how his drinking affected you."

Clarke's taken back by that, but quickly recovers, irritated. "Because it didn't."

"Do you really think that? I mean, from a medical point of view, I can't see how it hasn't."

"Well, it hasn't. He wasn't- Like, I know, I've heard about other people having alcoholic parents and how they've been abused or mistreated or abandoned, but that wasn't me. My dad wasn't like that."

That got the doctor's attention and Clarke thinks maybe she's wining whatever argument they've stumbled on. "Oh?"

"He was…a good drunk. A fun drunk."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"He let loose after a few beers. It made him more talkative. Funnier. He wasn't a mean drunk, it didn't change him, it just made him more…intense. More himself."

"So you're saying drinking was good for him?"

She doesn't appreciate they way she twisted her words. Clarke feels attacked, but tries to remain polite. "No! No, of course not. I'm just saying that it wasn't that bad. We had a great relationship."

Dr. Schulze persistent on her jabs. "You don't remember ever being uncomfortable by his drinking?"

"No." Clarke argues. But she realizes she's not there to fight. And she's not telling the truth. "I mean, maybe, a few times. But who hasn't felt embarrassed by their parents?"

"In what way did it make you uncomfortable?"

Clarke ducks her head, staring at her shoes. She feels dispirited as soon as she tries to recall some bad memories. "He got a little loud, sometimes. He'd throw around some inappropriate jokes at family gatherings. Sometimes he'd randomly fall asleep or forget he had things to do. Nothing terrible, and it didn't happen that often. The rest of the time it was fine."

"And you don't think any of that affected you?"

"I don't see how." She's getting really tired of that question.

"You said your dad got a little loud sometimes and made inappropriate comments-"

"Almost never."

"OK, but how did you feel when he did? How did you feel when he was being loud?"

Clarke shrugs. This doesn't have to be a serious matter, she thinks. She'll try to keep it casual. "I don't know. I got used to it. It did kind of scare me a bit when I was younger because I thought he was mad, but he never was. He was just loud. He had a loud personality, you know what I mean? He also had the loudest laugh ever..."

"And when other people are loud, how do you feel?"

"Um, it's a little unsettling. But isn't it that way for everyone? No one likes to get yelled at..."

"Is it unsettling even when it is not directed at you? When you're on the subway and someone near you starts yelling or talking loudly, how do you feel?"

"I-I don't know. Scared, I guess." She surprises herself with that answer.

"You know, when you told me about your fight with Raven last week and you said she'd yelled at you you flinched. Did you know that?"

Clarke's confused at the abrupt change of topic. "I'm not scared of Raven, though."

"You weren't scared of your father either." Clarke's silent. Not sure what's happening anymore. "Raven has always been a little loud, you've mentioned. Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"Sometimes." Clarke admits. She doesn't want to fight anymore and wishes she could just leave, but it's only been fifteen minutes.

"Why?"

"Um, I don't-I don't know. Raven's…passionate and doesn't really think things through."

"And when she yells, do you fear she'll do something crazy?"

"It has crossed my mind, but I know she wouldn't." The blonde tries to dismiss that admission with wave of a hand.

"She's not unpredictable, then."

"No. Which is weird because she's insane and wild, but she's actually the most stable person in my life right now." If Raven could only hear her now she'd get shit for it for the ret of her life, the blonde thought.

"But when she yells, it feels like she might do something scary?"

"Yeah, I guess." She's never thought about it before.

"Was your dad unpredictable? You mentioned he was a bit spacey and sometimes forgot about his commitments and responsibilities."

She feels protective again. "He was always there for me."

"He never failed you?"

"He might have forgotten to pick me up from school once or twice. He fell asleep at my birthday party once when I turned twelve, even though he had organized a whole afternoon of games for me and my friends. It sucked, but they were just little things, really."

"Did he ever not make it home?"

"Not when I was younger. When I was in high school there were some weekends he'd go out with his friends and not come back 'till Sunday, but only when my mom didn't have to work. I was never alone."

"But you were left waiting for him to come back."

"I mean, I worried, but…I knew he liked to drink. I knew where he was and what he was doing."

"You never thought one night he might not come back?"

The question elicits a shudder from her. She's not sure where it comes from. She remembers having some restless nights because her dad wasn't home, but not really. It's not one memory but a compilation, and they're all mudded now with Jake's death. It's hard to remember the bad ones sometimes.

"Sometimes he'd take the car. That's when I worried. But that almost never happened. The worst part of it was not having a car when I had plans. He'd forget I asked him for the car. But it wasn't that big a deal."

"You know, you keep defending his wrongdoings…""

"Only because you keep making me say these horrible things about my dad." Clarke looks at her right in the eyes. She's daring her to continue.

"I'm not attacking him, Clarke. I'm only asking questions to try and make you see-"

"What?"

"That it _has_ affected you. His drinking wasn't OK and it affects you now. To this day. Loud noises scare you, you yearn for stability and you're constantly anxious about people being unpredictable. That's what a parent's alcoholism does to a child."

"I'm fine. Maybe loud people freak me out a bit, but who doesn't get scared when people yell out of nowhere? And everyone wants stability-"

"Not to the point of throwing out their life dream to pursue a career they don't like just to feel like they'll be in control. Specially not someone who comes from money…"

"We didn't always used to have money. Only after my mom became a surgeon. And I quit nurse school. I'm doing my art now."

"Because you feel unstable without your father, Clarke. And it frightened you so much that you clung to the last shred of control you felt you had. You quit nurse school to get back at your mom because you feel like she let your dad die and you took up a job and a new career that only you could control, away from your family. You've stayed away from your friends because you feel people are too unpredictable. Your dad died and left you, so what's stopping them from doing the same?" Clarke's shaking in rage now. "You're anxious about meeting them because they might say or do something that'll make you question your life choices and you know they'll want to talk about your dad, but you have no control over that so you avoid it. You've lost control of your emotions on that topic so you've locked yourself up from the world so you don't have to deal with it."

The doctor could have slapped her across the face and it would've hurt less. She feels naked. Exposed and raw and small and she hates it. Hates feeling like this in front of this woman.

"That's-" She's not even sure what she wants to say.

"It's OK, Clarke. It's normal. I'm sorry if that was harsh, but I'm only trying to help you see that you're shying away from reality and it's unhealthy. It's why you're here."

"I'm here because my mom and Raven said they'd get off my back if I started therapy."

"Well, for whatever reason you're here, I want to help."

"Well, you're not." She needs to get out of there before she does something stupid. Clarke's zipping up her coat and grabbing her purse from a chair nearby.

"Clarke-"

There's no use. Clarke's up and she's got her things and she's going. Not sure where, but somewhere far, far away from the doctor.

"This was a waste of time." Clarke spats.

"We still have forty minutes left."

Clarke's hand is on the door knob. She turns around before leaving.

"I'm sorry but I'm not gonna sit here and let you talk shit about my dad."

"That wasn't what I was trying to do. I'm sorry if I offended you, but I didn't say-"

"No, but you implied things and then you made _me_ say them, which is even worse. I'm not going to talk shit about my dad to a stranger that didn't even know him." Clarke cries. "Good bye."

She's out. Finally. She's fee and _fuming_.

Clarke slams the door behind her and takes a breath against it. She tries to focus on her breathing, but the more she thinks about it the more irregular it becomes. She takes off her coat and then her gloves. Her body feels like it's overheating with rage. She takes off her shirt, hoping it'll help. Then her pants and her underwear comes off. She needs a cold shower. She needs to do something. Anything.

Walking hastily to the bathroom, she gets in the shower without thinking about it twice. The water's boiling and it feels fitting. The longer she's in the water, the more she can't remember why she's so mad. Why talking about her father's alcoholism feels wrong. It's not like it was a secret. It's something she has always known. Something everyone in her family knows. Something she had to tell as part of her story to the people who are now her friends.

But now that Jake's gone it feels like a lie. Like the alcoholism wasn't a problem, just a part of who her dad was. He had loved her and she had love him and now he was gone, and that's all that mattered.

Right?

After throwing some sweats on, Clarke thinks about calling Raven. She wants someone who'll agree with her. Someone who'll tell her Dr. Schulze was out of line and she has a right to be mad.

But in the back of her mind, she knows she's in the wrong. She just doesn't know why. If Jake were there, he'd give her a beer and tell her doctors don't know the first thing about life because they're doctors. They're always examining and over-analyzing everything; like her mom. They're not living, they're observing. Cops, on the other hand, know about life. What it means to be in danger. What it means to survive. They know about cruelty and misfortune. "We know more about human nature than any shrink" he'd say. "You should just talk to me, sweetheart. I won't charge you." she can almost hear him say. And she laughs out loud. He's not there anymore and he's still making her laugh.

She misses home desperately, she realizes. She misses feeling like she has one.

She re-considers calling Raven, this time to ask if her mom's around. She knows Abby would come running to her if Clarke said she needed her. But as soon as Raven hears her voice she'll know something's wrong and won't stop pestering her about it until she tells her what it is. And not even she knows what's wrong with her.

She sends Raven a text and the reply comes almost instantly.

(9:04 PM) "Abby left this morning. She tried to call you."

(9:04 PM) "Everything OK?"

(9:06 PM) "How'd the shrink go?"

Her mother's gone and Raven's worried and the shrink was awful.

Abby left and she's alone and Jake's dead.

Clarke turns off her phone and throws herself on the bed. A small sob escapes her throat, and then another. And another. And she's struggling to breath as she thinks of how pathetic she most look. How pathetic her life turned out. As she hugs her pillow and tries to stop her body wrecking, she wonders if Lexa feels like this sometimes. This alone. Clarke thinks she does. In a way, in consoles her.

But Jake's still dead and as she falls asleep Clarke remembers him having a beer in the backyard on a sunny day as she chased the butterflies in her mom's garden, giggling.

And when she finally falls asleep she sees Jake crawling on the bathroom floor of a dingy bar, drunk out of his mind and begging her to help him.


End file.
